


The End Is Where We Start From

by Bodiecuddle



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 08:37:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 76,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bodiecuddle/pseuds/Bodiecuddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of dodging bullets, a pure accident in the middle of nowhere puts to standstill the life of Bodie and Doyle as they  know it. How do you fight the invisible ememy within?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End Is Where We Start From

**Author's Note:**

  * For [this story is written by finnhere2 . This is not my work!!!! I`m not the author...](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=this+story+is+written+by+finnhere2+.+This+is+not+my+work%21%21%21%21+I%60m+not+the+author...).



**  
**

  
_I want to say: I do not own these characters nor claim any right to do so. This fanfic is purely for entertainment purposes only...._  
  
Thanks to angelfish45 for allowing me to borrow  Larry ( a character  from one of her stories.)

  
English is not my native language and I apologize already beforehand for all the mistakes I have done. They are all mine.  
  
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Thank you finnhere2 for this great story. I`m proud you let me upload this brilliand piece of work... one of my fabs!!!.. hugs!!!  
 Bodiecuddle xx

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Prologue  
  
Bloody hell it was cold. Bodie tried to shift to get his blanket around him but couldn't. Pain started to seep into his mind alongside that coldness. His head was hurting... and every damned part of his body.  
And he was... hanging somehow. Kind of sideways. Bodie thought he had to wake up. And then he suddenly realised he was awake... and the pain rushed to fill him.  
It was somehow very difficult to open his eyes. Eyelids felt thick and heavy. Bodie tried to lift his right arm to wipe his eyes but pain shot at his shoulder and he winced, stopping the movement.  
That pang cleared his mind and he suddenly remembered, gasping with terror. The abrupt jerk of his head caused a pain that almost blew his mind but he fought to stay conscious. Fought to open his eyes.  
Ray.  
”Ray.... RAY?”  
No answer. Had he even managed to say it out loud? It was hard to think.  
Bodie forced himself to breathe more evenly and gingerly shifted himself more upright. Shoulder... right one... hurt but not broken as he was able to move his arm a little. No broken ribs as far as he could tell, filling his lungs hurt only some. He had hit his head, sure. Concussion but what else? He lifted his left hand and smaller sharp pains twinged as his shaking fingers came first to a bump and then to something sticky and moist. Ok, a bleeding wound. Determinedly he started to wipe his eyes clear of the blood that was already clotting. No use of trying anything else before he could see properly. How long had he been knocked out?  
Quiet creaking and shake beneath him almost stopped his heart from beating. It ended... but only for a moment. An involuntary yell escaped Bodie when that sickening creak returned and ground moved.  
It felt an eternity before the end came.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
When Bodie started to master his senses again he found himself shaking uncontrollably. Some instinct had made him nestle on his seat before the somersault and it took a moment before he could ease his muscles and let his feet down. He realised the huddle had probably saved his brain. He wasn't able to sit straight, ceiling was pressing down on his skull when he tried to straighten himself. Still shaking he wiped his face, finally getting his vision clearer.  
Stunned, Bodie tried to regain his wit. Breeze of air came in, chilling his wet face. Wet? He looked at the hand which was likewise feeling the chill. He was still hanging, barely staying on the seat and his legs... it took a breath before he got it. Really got it.  
Capri was in water. And... Christ...  
”RAY!”  
Bodie's own yell pierced his brain and his sudden turn almost made him pass out again.  
His partner was hunched against the seatbelt, passenger door partially open, face in the water.  
”Ray?” He already stretched his arm to yank Doyle back when the pain in his own head reminded him to mind Ray's. But there was no time to waste, Ray could drown any second if he already hadn't done that, no time... oh god... and the fucking door was jammed, hell it wouldn't open! ”You shitty piece of garbage...”  
Bodie turned back towards his mate and thought only for half a second. Then he pushed his left knee against Doyle's seat's side, propped his right foot against the floor as heavily as he could, and eased his seatbelt as far as it would let him as he needed the support it could give. He stretched as far as he could, his good arm farther to get a grab of those curls and support the neck. Swearing, he managed to force his right arm stretch enough to get a hold of Ray's jacket, and pulled and lifted, carefully, evenly, tears of agonizing pain breaking down his face as he tried his best to cause as little move as possible to his mate's neck, and his shoulder and upper arm were screaming of the strain. And just when he thought his grip wouldn't have lasted a heartbeat longer, his mate's head was against the headrest.  
Bodie was breathing heavily. ”Now fucking what?” he muttered to himself. He could feel pulse when he stretched his fingers to Ray's throat, and that made a surge of relief go through him. But he didn't see Ray breathe and panic tried to flood over him again. ”No” he whispered, trying to get his mind clear again. He needed to... yes. Bodie opened his own seatbelt now, leaned over his mate's seat and cursing searched the lever. Then he manouvered himself kneeling on Ray's seat, banging his pounding  head against the ceiling, and he eased down the backrest carefully as low as it would go, controlling the motion holding the bar of the headrest. How damned heavy even half a Ray could be when all that weight had to be handled by one arm... fuck that water! Bodie himself was chilled waist down and groaned for Ray's sake, but he just had to get his partner breathe before he could use any time for getting them the hell out of the car.  
Luckily on Ray's side the roof of the car wasn't bashed. Still his door was jammed too, but Bodie didn't waste any time on it now. He hastily searched the least uncomfortable position for starting CPR, and the pressing of Ray's chest made him curse for the pain it caused again to his shoulder. He knew Ray might well have some broken ribs. ”Sor-ry – mate -  but - if - you  - don't -start – breath' - in – fast – that – makes – no – fuck – in' – diff – 'rence” and then he wiped away the water from Ray's lips and pressed his mouth on Ray's, blowing a couple of times as long and as hard as he could, hoping the air wouldn't come too late. While getting back at the pressing he tried to think. He had no idea how long he had been knocked out before waking up, but since the car had made the last slide and fall, in reality that couldn't have been more than only a few minutes ago although it felt like an hour. How long do you survive without oxygen? Bodie tried desperately remember what the first-aid instructors had said. Surely it had to be more than mere minutes. But what he remembered clearly was the instruction: If the heart is beating, don't stop. And he wouldn't. ”As – long – as – it – takes – Ray” he hissed. And he filled his lungs again, trying to will every atom of oxygen from his whole system to reach Ray's.  
He didn't know how many times he had repeated the drill already when while blowing he felt a sudden resistance, and in a spasm of cough water surged  into his own mouth. Ray coughed. The bloody miserable mutt was breathing! Bodie suppressed a sob, hearing his mate wail softly after the spasms of cough had subsided. That sound brought him back to reality and reminded him that Ray was hurt, maybe real bad, and he would have to get them both out from the car and water now, and quickly at that. But first he had to check if Ray was hearing him.  
”Ray? Ray, mate, can you hear me?” He tapped Ray's chin as briskly as he dared.  
”Sunshine, do you hear me?”  
Another wail.  
”Mate, I know you hurt. I'm gonna get us out, but I need you to stay quiet. Real quiet. Ray, are you listening?”  
To Bodie's great relief Ray opened his eyes for a moment. ”Bodie...” he murmured faintly.  
”Yeah mate. Now listen. You need to be quiet. Don't try to move. Got it?”  
”Bodie I can't feel me legs.”  
Bodie felt an iceberg settling inside his stomach.    
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
There was a moment of silence. Bodie looked out of the car but for a moment he really didn't see a thing. Christ...  He wiped his face, taking a deep breath. No use freaking out.  
”Ok. So you know what I have to do then?”  
”Yeah. You'd better get going.”  
”Good idea. If only there was some place to go to.”  
”Whaddya mean?”  
”I mean that we're in the middle of nowhere. You dozed off sometime. We already passed that last hamlet by some 20 miles maybe so the next stop for us would've been the bloody cottage. I didn't even ask if there are neighbours staying over winter. Farmhouses or such. Or if they even have a phone...” Bodie swallowed.  
Ray was silent for a moment. It was already so dark in the car that Bodie couldn't see his mate's face properly. Maybe it was only for the best.  
”You've marched longer than that.” The words sounded thick.  
”Yeah. But I'm in no running condition. And besides, even if I managed to not pass out along the way, it would take hours. And I have no intention to leave you freeze here. You're blurring already.”  
”What then?”  
Bodie took another deep breath and felt the cold intensify; he didn't know if he was more cold outside or inside. But practical thinking helped him to push aside the sick knowledge that he had killed his partner. Even breathing, Ray would be dead without the use of his legs.  
”First thing is that I have to get you out. And I have to do it quick so I need you to stay focused. And I need you to be completely still once I see if my plan could work. Can you feel your arms?”  
”I feel 'em freezing so yeah I feel 'em. And I can move 'em.”  
”Good. Now, I'm gonna take a peek outside. I need to crawl over you to see if I can squeeze out from there, my door is jammed and ceiling down. Stay still, I need to get the boot open.”  
Bodie reached for the keys and carefully tried to pass Doyle. He slipped in water a bit and felt pressing on Ray's foot. He heard Ray grunt.  
”Hey careful...”  
”You felt that?”  
”Felt some.”  
Bodie felt too, felt like giving a kiss to his partner. Ray had some feeling left, hell there was still hope! Bodie's head tried to explode again and nausea swept over him, but he breathed deep and tried to focus. Ok, then out. Bodie tried to push Ray's door more open but it wouldn't budge. Bloody hell...  
”Sorry mate, I try to be careful. Stay still whatever happens, absolutely still.” Bodie managed to manouver his leg out first, and he squeezed himself into the slit. For a moment he thought that he would still have to use the windshield or side window after all, and risk of tramping worse on Ray and hurting his own shoulder, but hissing he managed to get his body between the door and the frame. For a second he felt he'd get stuck when he couldn't find a proper foothold, but after some muttering when his muscles worked against the stubborn piece of the vehicle, Bodie eventually fell into the river when the door's grip loosened.  
Ray felt and saw his partner vanish and heard the splash. ”Bodie? Bodie what happened? BODIE!” Loud spitting curses came to his ears after a moment and the injured man sighed of relief.  
”I'm ok, just took a fucking dip. Almost dropped the car keys.” And hit my fucking elbow, Bodie thought to himself. Guess that did some more to shoulder. Good thing I didn't sprain my ankle or knock my skull again. Fucking marvellous to get drowned two secs after getting out of that fucking car.  
Bodie was again shaking, with fright and anger and cold, but he forced himself to wade by the car's side towards the rear end, assessing the situation. The bank was steep and he could see the other tyre being only a foot or so into water, while at the passenger's side the bonnet was practically covered with it. But with some luck the trunk would be dry, unless some rock had come through the bottom.  
After some foul words he managed to open the trunk. Good, no leaks. That meant they would have something dry to put on once they got out of here. Bodie was shivering, and knew that Ray must be much worse as he couldn't move, but at least wind didn't get to Doyle as bad. Bodie found the first-aid kit, which he to his utter joy noticed to be brand new, and also a toolbox. He opened it quickly.  
”Ray?”  
”Yeah?” That was faint.  
”Wanna get to the boot again?”  
”What?”  
”Never mind. Any idea how the seats are fastened?”  
Ray's blurred mind tried to figure out what the hell it was that Bodie was talking about. After a moment it started to dawn to him. ”Are you serious?”  
”Yepp, sunshine”. Bodie was glad to hear Ray was following him. ”If that damned seat just would stay in one piece, we just might get you through the boot. If the backrest here doesn't give room I rip 'em off. It's only a couple of yards to dry ground through this. And, I wouldn't need to move you so much if we get the seat off. It's either through the boot or then I have to remove the door and I don't wanna do that, mate.”  
Ray, who understood his situation just as well as Bodie, decided to cling to the hope Bodie offered. He listened to Bodie moving their things, probably carrying them to the bank. Ray didn't know why they had ended in the water but hell he wasn't going to die in some Scottish river or lake or whatever. The agent forced his brain to work. He had spent in cars half an eternity and fiddled  under the bonnet dozens of times, changed quite a few tyres and so on, but like Bodie, it had never crossed his mind to look under the seats. He resisted the desire to turn his head to look. The hurt was subsiding, but he knew that part of it was because of hypothermia. It was getting harder and harder to think... he only wanted to close his eyes.  
But he didn't.  
”Bodie?”  
Ray did sound definitely more blurred so it did take Bodie a second. ”Say that again, mate. What was it about bobbers?”  
Sheer anger gave Ray a boost. ”Rails under the seats, you idiot. Rails and stoppers. It can't be more complicated than that. A few bolts and maybe a couple of screws. And take a belt from my bag.”  
Bodie wondered about that one but did as he was told and rummaged quickly through Ray's bag to find the belt.  
He walked to the driver's side, threw the toolbox, first-aid kit and belt inside through the broken window, looked at the crashed door and the roof, and yanked a couple of times. There was only a slight move but nothing else.  
Ray had noticed him. ”Take the tyre iron, dummy. If you get with some smaller tool enough slit to get one of the heads in, use the tyre iron as a crowbar. Use your weight.”  
Bodie almost blushed. ”Listen mate, I'm the one everybody considers a criminal. And you're the pretty boy, not supposed to give snitching tips.” And although he blamed himself for missing the obvious, he was happy Ray wasn't giving in. At least not yet.  
But inside the car, Ray's smile waned and his eyes shut.  
   
  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Bodie started to work the door with a short sturdy screwdriver he found. Whoever had chosen the toolbox had done a good job, it was a decent one with quality stuff, not bending. He pretty soon managed to create a slit wide enough to sneak in a head of the tyre iron which was a real relief as it was almost impossible to work with his right hand. With the iron, he could use his bodyweight but still he was soon sweating with the effort.  
Ray listened to the creaks and felt each yank and push in his body and could barely stay silent. He had never hurt like this. The small of his back was... he had no word for it. That pain felt like radiating everywhere. And it was hard to breathe, he could only take short shallow breaths. That he was familiar with, he knew how broken ribs felt like. But the back was worst... and the numbness in his legs. It was most frightening of all. And the cold. Although the cold felt somehow less now, and he was so very tired...  
He didn't know how they had ended here... Bodie was – aside from himself – the best driver he knew. Wild though, just like he was. And Bodie knew Capris. Ok, this wasn't from their own car-pool, they had loaned it from Aberdeen where they had left Bodie's favourite to get its gearbox fixed.  
Actually, Ray didn't even want to know what had happened. He felt tears burning under his lids. This was the worst. This was the worst ever. He knew that. What if he wouldn't be able to walk ever again? What if he would be bound into some bloody wheelchair for the rest of his crappy life? Need someone to change his diapers?  What if he would have this pain for ever?  
Ray bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. Hate rushed through him violently. If Bodie had done something to cause this crash... he would fucking kill that bastard. In every way he only knew.  
  
Rage had made Ray to breathe faster and the pain it induced made a groan escape. Bodie heard that and with a last mighty effort managed to force the battered door open. He tried to peer at Ray's face.  
”Ray? Hey mate, are you with me?”  
The unintentional irony in Bodie's question made Ray hiss. ”Oh yeah mate, I'm so very much with you.”  
Bodie felt his stomach become a tight knot. He heard the bitterness in that almost inaudible voice. The hate.  
He swallowed. He had known this might be coming but he had hoped it would at least have waited until they were somewhere safe. And Bodie knew that right now anything he would say might make things only worse. Good God how it hurt... He dared to try and look into Ray's eyes but his partner kept them shut. Yet he saw a weak reflection of light and knew it was a tear.  
Bodie felt coldness settling into himself. Ok. This was it then. This was something that Ray would never forgive him. And something he would never be able to forgive himself. There was nothing he could say.  
And there was nothing else to do but to get his future ex partner safe.  
Better get on with it then.  
”Ok mate. Whaddya reckon, will it be quicker to detach the rails from the floor, or free the seat from the rails?”  
Ray forced himself to be polite. ”Check the rails, s'pose it's easier to dislocate the seat from 'em.”    
There was enough light for Bodie to see Ray was right. If he only had matching tools... Yepp. Worth the try, there would only be so little room for his hand, and he would have to work his hand under water. Bodie used a couple of minutes to feel his way under the seat on driver's side, so that he would know what to search. Once he was confident he knew the positions, he quickly turned down the backrests of the backseat. Yeah, there should be enough room for the seat to go through.  
Then it was the turn of the hard part... Bodie pushed driver's seat as far back as it went, which wasn't much, sat down, and turned himself so that he was able to start working with the fasteners of Ray's seat that were on his side.  
Ray opened his eyes to watch his partner work. Bodie was hunched in a very awkward position and Ray could detect he had problems using his right hand. He also noticed dark markings on Bodie's face and chest and knew his mate had been bleeding. His head must hurt like hell. Still Bodie was working concentratedly – desperately? - only an occasional curse escaping from him, and despite his anger Ray had to admit once again that his companion had stamina.  
Ray found it harder and harder to stay focused. He had started to shiver already earlier, and now the comfortable numbness seemed to calm the shaking and the pain. He felt he might almost fall asleep. It would be nice to sleep... get to some warm bed, under blankets, he so would love to have a real fireplace and watch the embers...  
  
Splashing brought Ray back to reality.  
Bodie had waded back into the river to work on the last fasteners. It wasn't easy as he couldn't see into the water and his fingers started to get numb and the tools almost slipped from his hands a couple of times. While starting to work with the last one Bodie looked up to his quiet partner who was in water almost to his chest... and uttered a profanity that made Ray frown even through his half sleep.  
”Wha'?”  
”Being an imbecill.” Bodie stood up and then leaned over Ray's legs to open the first-aid kit.  
”Nothing new about that,” muttered Ray, ”but what this time?”  
”Can't dislocate the seat before I fasten you, in case it falls backwards as you're leaning back so much. Should have left the other fastener last... Dammit...”  
Bodie found a pair of scissors and tried them on the seatbelt. Awkward but should do. Then he looked up and down his partner and at the seat. He would need to cut the driver's belt too and how the hell would he manage to get the belts tight? And how could he immobilize Ray? He didn't yet know where the damage to Ray's back was, but nevertheless he wouldn't risk the neck. It would need to be propped...  
Ray had already thought of that. He didn't want to give in, hell no... He had been guiding traffic past wrecked cars, hearing about the victims enough times to have his facts straight. So he swallowed his bitterness and fought to focus once more, although it meant leaving the ember.  
”Use my scarf and then the belt for neck. Scarf first and the belt over it as many rounds as it goes all the way up and down. It's starch and broad. And use the one from my pants too if the broad one's not enough. At least you can have it go through the other one and through the headrest.”  
Bodie stole a peek at his partner's face. Fighter; skinny and slender-looking Ray had always been that. Sometimes Bodie had wondered which one of them in the very deepest reality was the toughest. There were not many who could manage to think that way if they were in Ray's position. Hell, there were not many who could manage to think at all...  
Ray wasn't looking at him but somewhere into emptiness... Bodie didn't dare to imagine what it was that his mate was seeing. He pulled away carefully the scarf that had been hanging loose round his mate's neck. It was soaking wet.  
Bodie opened the buckle of Ray's belt, pulled the belt out and went quietly round the car again and slid in. He took his own warm scarf, folded it a little, made loops and slid them carefully and gently over that curly head, pulling down so that he didn't need to lift Ray's head. Suddenly he felt blinded and had to close his eyes. God... He sighed and opened his eyes again, seeing Ray's, looking straight at his, questioning. Bodie took a deep breath and just couldn't help but touch his mate's chin with his fingertips.  
”Ray... I WILL get you out from here.”  
And despite all the anger and pain welling inside the other agent, that simple touch reached deep. Ray responded to the one thing he knew be true.  
”I know.”  
  
They looked at each other for a moment, one with agonizing pain in his body and the other, that same pain in his mind. Without a word Bodie pulled the scarf tighter and his warmth in it made Ray close his eyes. Ray felt the last loop slide over his head and Bodie's fingers pull and tuck the scarf to cover from the neck of his pullover to his chin. Then there was something sliding behind his neck and Bodie's fingers gently reaching for it from the other side... and again, and again... Ray heard occasional hisses that told him Bodie was hurt, and he heard little clicks but failed to see Bodie pulling his own belt out as the thought of Ray's own soaking wet slippery belt so against his neck felt hard to bear. Bodie attached the two belts and worked them as if they were bandage, and before tightening he threaded the third one go under them in the neck. Then, Bodie pulled the belts as tight as his mate allowed, managed to fasten the buckle, and finally with the third one, secured Ray's neck to the headrest. That should do...  
Ray, who had again slipped next to his fireplace, had a startling return to reality with loud sound of something ripping.  
”What the hell...?”  
Bodie, who was too concentrated and gnawing at his lower lip, didn't even hear him. Working with the leather belt had given him an idea and he was now tugging at the props in the back of the seat to see if they could hold it... He was getting more nervous as he had noticed Doyle was occasionally away. And what more, he was totally aware of his own condition. His arm was getting worse by every move, and his head was trying to kill him; he knew that it wouldn't take long until  he might not be able to help Ray. So he took the scissors again and pulled out the driver's seatbelt to start cutting both ends of it. He was hardly able to lift his right hand and Ray heard him grunt. In a couple of minutes Bodie was in the river again, and destroying the other belt.  
After a while, drowsy Ray noticed Bodie coming in the car again, only this time he had with him their tightly rolled sleeping bags and the toolbox. Bodie had used a couple of minutes to find branches which he pushed in the middle of the rolls, to make them more rigid, before working the rolls back to their covers. It pained Bodie to think that their bags might get soaked, but they were the only items in their things that might suit as support to Ray's back. And another couple of minutes Bodie had used to pierce the ends of the belts with his Swiss army knife. It had been lot easier said than done, as the belts were weaved to endure. And that was the fact, which despite making Bodie curse bitterly just a moment ago, he relied on to get his mate out of the car without causing Ray further damage.  
In the car Bodie pushed one end of the belts under the props and wires of the backrest, and then took one of the longer screwdrivers, slid it under the props, pushed the tip in and out of the holes he had made to the belt, and forced the tip again back on the outer side of the props and wires. Breathing heavily with all the effort, he pulled the belt to the side and peered at his handiwork, where he had used the screwdriver and the props as a safety pin to attach the belt... hey, bloody hell, it just might work!  
Bodie didn't hesitate anymore. In a few minutes Ray found himself being totally immobilized by the safety belts, rolls fastened tightly under his arms propping his sides, Bodie cursing heavily trying to make that last fastener yield to him  
And it did. That last yank to loosen the jammed seat, pushed it back and also got it off the rails and fall down against the backseat, but luckily Ray had been alert enough so he didn't get too startled, yet the cold water getting higher his chest made him gasp.  
”Shit, Ray, sorry!”  
Bodie bent down immediately and started to push and lift the seat backwards and upwards, towards the boot and the great outdoors. It had felt like such a fucking brilliant idea to begin with, but panting Bodie started to doubt it after the first thirty seconds of trying to manouvre the stones that were Doyle. Yet, inch by inch, he managed to move his partner. And finally Ray was away from the water.  
Ray heard splashing as Bodie waded to the rear. The springs of the car creaked when Bodie sat down, still breathing heavily.  
”Sorry mate, have to catch my breath, just a sec...” Trying to hold his head in one piece, Bodie looked up. It was getting too dark to really see anything, so he stood up again and walked to the other end of the car, where in short distance the banks of the river seemed to get less steep. He tried desperately to remember... there were the zigzag curves... what was it?  
”Hey, Ray?” Bodie heard a silent grunt. ”Can you remember, what did that fellow Duncan say about the curves, and the distance to the cabin?”  
Doyle just wanted to sleep by his fireplace, it hurt a lot less. But the tree didn't let him. There was something about a tree... he muttered. Bodie came closer to hear him. ”Tree”, Ray managed. ”In the last tight curve there's the dead tree and after that it's only downhill.”  
Bodie remembered now. He looked up and saw the silhouette of a big dead tree-trunk against the blackening sky. He cursed loud. ”Ray, I can't fucking believe this, there's that blasted pine he talked about!  We are in that valley, and the cursed cabin can't be farther off than only a few hundred yards!”  
That knowledge filled Bodie with new hope and energy. He bent down at his partner. ”Listen, Ray. I take a peek upriver, it will only take a minute. The cabin can't be far away. I'll be back in five or ten, ok?”  
Ray would have wanted to say that he couldn't care less, but instead he just grunted sod off then. Bodie stopped for a second more, then he suddenly took off his jacket and put it over Ray. It wasn't dry but it was still warm. And without a word more Bodie took off, trying to avoid slipping.  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Bodie had only walked by the river some few dozen yards when he saw that the bends were definitely less steep. He climbed up, wincing inwardly with every movement to his arm, and when he straightened his back, he more sensed than saw a building in the dark. It was only some 200-300 yards away! The relief surging through Bodie made him sway. He turned, and hastened closer to the Capri along the bank. He stopped when he almost fell in darkness. He shouted at Ray, it took a few times before he got a faint reply.  
”Ray! I found the place, it's close! I go there now and check out if there's something I can use to get you easier out of there! Do you hear me Ray? I'll be back there in a few minutes, mate!”  
Again Bodie turned and rushed to the cabin as fast as his pounding head allowed him.  
Down in the boot of the Capri, Ray counted stars that were coming to sight. A part of him was totally indifferent and only wanted to escape the pain that had invaded him. Another part in him felt new hope – and yet another felt bitter hate. He didn't know what he wanted more, to simply die clean and quick, or to take the chance of recovery – as he knew enough of pain to know, this time that chance might be very slim indeed.  
Why the hell had they decided to use their days off in Scotland? They had been dead tired after tracking and chasing the bloody separatist lunatics. The two were considered to be just the ordinary village loonies by the police and the MI5, but The Cow had got a bad feeling about the Scots duo, and in all quiet sent a couple of the Scottish agents to sniff around. Four days ago the reports stopped... Their boss hadn't wasted time, he had been on the local police's back immediately, and when he had been informed that the flat Angus and Rory had rented, was found empty and scavenged, he sent every available agent North. Including Ray and Bodie, who had been on leave in Newcastle with the girls. With their ex girls now, as Jen and Deborah hadn't been too delighted when their partners had been called to phone in the damned nightclub of their hotel... One time too many seemed to be the slogan that night, phrase that both Bodie and Ray had got thrown at their faces. And thrown hard...  
Since then, they hadn't got a good night's sleep. The Cow had started the man-hunt, finally getting help from the Yard and MI5, as one of IRA's operatives had been recognized at  Aberdeen docks. They managed to track the gang down eventually after a tip, with ugly results. These two nutcase separatists had turned to IRA to get a bit of boost... which was their mistake as the word had leaked and the rest of the separatist groups didn't want to partake in killings. So the police got an anonymous call. For Angus the help came too late, but they had managed to get Rory out alive – barely, but still alive. The IRA -operative had wanted to play a little with Rory, who had been in Belfast for years before joining the CI5. One part of the game had been killing Angus in front of Rory.  And what was the most ironic thing about it all, Rory and the terrorist had recognized each other in some damned pub... over bloody pints of stout.  
Ray tried to slow down his breathing as bitterness welled in him. He and Bodie had taken part in the rescue which had gone wrong... terribly wrong. In the end Ray and Bodie had tried to cover and save two young coppers who had lost their nerves in the house.  
When they had got out, and the whole bloody mess was finally over, their boss had been exceptionally generous and given them 5 days off – the ones they missed plus two extra. They had felt they didn't want to see anyone for a while. Bodie had busted the gearbox of his Capri and they had wondered what they would do, and where they could get quietly but efficiently dead drunk, without having to face anybody else. Young constable they had dragged out the house, Duncan Lennox, had overheard them talking and shyly suggested that if they really needed peace and quiet, he knew just the place...  
Ray didn't know if he should laugh or cry. If he hadn't dragged that stupid Scottish arse out from the fire himself,  he wouldn't be laying here.  
Burst of burning pain made him wail involuntarily and he slipped into darkness.  
  
In the darkness above, Bodie, approaching the cottage, decided his course of action. First he would go in and call for help. He knew the Army or SAS could send rescuers with helicopter, so Ray could be hoisted quite safely and rushed to a hospital in no time. All he would need to do was to keep Ray warm until the rescuers came... he would find warm blankets and stuff in the cottage and bring them to Ray. Yeah, that would be the best thing to do, he might only harm his mate trying to get him up here, and a chopper would be a lot faster than an ambulance.  
Bodie took the key Duncan had given them and managed to find the keyhole. Door opened without complaints and in seconds Bodie found a switch and blinked in blinding light drilling into his brain. The cottage felt warm to his freezing face, Duncan had said his grandpa left two days ago so the place wasn't yet totally chilled. Bodie welcomed the warm breeze although the light made his head scream again.  
In a moment he wanted to bang his cracking head against the wall.  
The phone was dead.  
It took a moment before Bodie managed to get over his disappointment. Ok... just a change of plans. He could do this. He bloody well could. If he had managed to get them into the river, he would bloody manage to get Ray out from there again. Now... first thing? Yepp, get Ray into warmth. Bodie straightened himself and turned to look around him. Fireplace, oven, at least one radiator in the living-room, what else... he peeked into a bedroom and noticed another radiator, wondered for a second how the hell those would be in a small cottage in the middle of the bloody Highland peripheria, before he remembered Duncan mentioning the grandpa was having a hip-operation. Old bones had needed extra warmth. ”Something positive,” muttered Bodie, dragged the other piece of apparatus to the living-room, and turned the radiators on. Then, he used another minute to make a fire into the fireplace as there was a convenient pile of firewood and also matches, sticks and paper for making the fire. Scots seemed to be practical people.  
Speaking of practical... he would need light. Bodie walked into the tiny hallway and noticed not only one but two real good-ol' lanterns hanging by the door. And they even had oil! Bodie started to feel real warmth towards the unknown old man. Now he could leave one lantern burning on the bank to show where he could try and get Ray up. The dark nights he had spent in jungles and outbacks had taught him that already a mere sight of a lamp could help you to go on when you were closing on your limits. And, Bodie thought grimly, that definitely wouldn't be too far from the truth this evening.  
But now he'd have to scavenge the place to find something that could help him move Ray. And a jacket. And blankets for Ray, hell something warm and quick! Bodie forced himself into action again and grabbed the quilt from the bedroom and took it by the heater to be warmed. Then he grabbed a jacket and managed to squeeze himself into it, lit one of the lanterns, disabled the lock of the door and went out to search the yard and outer buildings for a wheelbarrow or something like that. No way he would be able to carry Ray, not even if he didn't need to mind the back. He knew his arm and shoulder wouldn't take the strain of Ray's weight for longer than a moment. But as this place clearly was an old farmhouse, and there were also flowerbeds, there just might be something they had used to move dirt or things with.  
A tractor... Bodie's heart took a few quick beats and he rushed towards the dark figure, but in a minute he realised it probably had been years since the ancient-looking machine had budged the last time. So he headed towards what he figured might have been an old cowshed. And ta dah! Not only was there an ordinary old wheelbarrow, but also another one they probably had moved barrels or milk with, as it was lower to the ground and had a consistent handle, two big wheels and also sort of rails to hinder the burden from slipping out. Bodie sighed of relief, that one surely would be easier and steadier to move.  
He only worried for his shoulder. Would it take the strain? He would still need to haul Ray and the seat on the barrow, and drag his mate out and get into the house. If there only was some kind of harness he could use for pulling... He peeked in another door he gathered might have lead to an old stable, and right enough, what he saw was ropes and what appeared to be an ancient pony-harness. Bodie quickly inventoried the old leather straps and although they were dried they were not totally ruined, and he soon noticed he really was able to attach the straps to make an elementary harness to go over his shoulders and across his chest, he could fasten the ropes to it and be able to pull. Bodie remembered that once an American para had called him a mule, somehow that word had stucked to his mind although that guy had used many other words too until starting spitting teeth. Well, today that jerk would have been right...  
Bodie estimated how much time he had used in the house and realised it must have been way over a quarter of an hour even though he hadn't tarried anywhere. He swore and pulled the barrow in the middle of the yard, and went in the cottage, grabbed a rucksack he saw, and pushed the warm quilt inside of it, lit the second lantern, went out and suddenly rushed back inside, searched for a pen and hurriedly wrote a few words on two pieces of paper that he found, before dashing off to the yard. He noticed a path going to the rough direction of the river and decided to follow it so that he might find less steep bank there.  
In a few minutes there was one lantern burning by the river, and the other one radiating light and warmth and stench of oil on the deadly pale face of Ray Doyle.  
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Bodie's heart was in his mouth even after the green eyes finally focused on him. It had taken him a while to get Doyle awake and he cursed his thoughtlessness, he should bloody hell have tried to get Ray at least changed to dry clothes before rushing off. It was almost impossible to get anything clear out from drowsy Ray. Clearly there was not a moment more to lose...  
Returning to the car he had instantly understood that the bank was so steep he would never manage to pull the barrow the first dozens of yards... And no way he would put Ray back in the water...  the barrow was too low set and Bodie  might drown his mate. Bodie knew he wouldn't be able to climb straight up, not even if his shoulder would let him, with Ray's weight... and even the only possible alternative made him feel nausea. But there was no other choice... Now, he had to get Ray away from the car. And he needed those eyes stay open as he wouldn't be able to see everything, by himself.  
”Ok, Ray... now I really need you to stay awake.” Ray barely blinked at him. Bodie needed his attention and finally got it, stroking the damp curls and warming the ice-cold face with his hands.  
Doyle felt disoriented... that unexpected warmth made him look at the blue eyes and the drawn, worried, bloodstained face. Bodie didn't move his hands before he saw his mate's gaze get clearer.  
”Ray, that cottage is up there. And I have a sort of wheelbarrow and I need to get you lifted on it and fastened to it. Ok?” He saw his mate was listening.  
”The thing is...” Bodie swallowed. ”It's probably going to hurt when I lift you. And when we get moving... It's not level ground... and I can't much use my right arm. I can't promise it goes too evenly...” He saw Ray turn his gaze away and shut his eyes for a moment.  
But Ray looked back at him, finally. His quiet husky words made the listening stoic killer bite his lip to bleed. ”Well... if I get paralysed, then it won't hurt anymore, will it?”  
Ray's gaze chilled Bodie when he finally was able to force himself meet the green eyes again, it was so... steady. So beyond any emotion... ”Guess so” Bodie whispered.  
He took a deep breath and tasted the metal in his mouth. Funny enough, that brought him back fighting and Ray saw the all-too-familiar dark sternness return into that bruised face. The ex-mercenary stretched his neck and filled his lungs to their limit, looked up to the starry sky and down to his partner. His voice was quiet but calm, his tone so very familiar and his gaze a mixture or warmth and ice-cold determination. ”The other thing, Raymond Doyle... I don't know what happened up there. But what I know, what I bloody hell KNOW is that I get you out from this hellhole.”  
Bodie stood up and started to pull the seat towards the barrow he had propped against rocks so that it stayed in one place, so close to the boot he barely had space to stand there. And he summoned the anger and frustration within him to help him half drag, half lift his companion, still tightly bound to the seat, on the barrow. Ray winced a couple of times with unavoidable jerks and jolts, but miraculously his panting partner managed to manouver him to his place without making him feel much worse.  
Yet it came with a price. Once Ray was settled down and fastened with ropes and their belongings and covered with the quilt that still had some warmth in it, he saw the dark figure of his partner lean heavily on Capri and hold the back of his hand against his mouth.  
It took several seconds before Bodie straightened up again. Nausea almost had got the better of him, and he didn't dare to tell Ray how wobbly he felt. He went to his own rucksack and pulled out one of the bottles of whisky he had carefully tucked inside his clothes. He managed to open it and gave first his mate a tiny sip. He didn't dare to let Ray drink more than that but he knew they both needed a little boost, and he allowed himself only two swallows, before, to his mate's surprise, pouring the precious liquid into the river.  
Ray's astonishment grew even greater when his partner pulled out another Glenfiddich and emptied that too into the river.  
”What the hell?”  
”Hi-Tech” was the only reply he got.  
Bodie pulled from his pocket the pieces of paper he had tucked there and put one into each of the bottles, closed the corks as tightly as he ever could and tossed both bottles carefully into the river, hoping that in this time of the world there still would be curious kids getting into places where they were not supposed to be... or some fishing maniac outside the season... probably the bottles would sink or break before the first bend anyway, or float into the sea after a few months... but at least he had tried.  
Ray's eyes widened when he saw Bodie arduously pulling on himself something that looked like some makeshift weird harness. Bodie tucked his rucksack into the barrow, then managed to get the lantern hang from the handrail uncomfortably close to Ray's curls. He took another piece of rope, tied it to the siderail and left it loose on Ray, before pushing the barrow so that it was roughly on the side of the Capri, and turned it so that Ray faced up river. While turning the barrow Bodie simultaneously lifted the river's side of it by taking the rope he had tied, on his shoulder, and taking the wheel with his good arm. His face in the lamplight was almost as pale as his mate's but his eyes were steady when he looked down at Ray.  
”All right... Keep focused. I need your eyes as I can't lift with my other side and I don't trust the belts enough to let you hang on them. Warn me as much as you can if there's something behind my heels. 30, 40 yards maybe and it gets better. Hang on with me till that and stay awake, and I manage the rest.”  
Then he pulled slowly to see how much force he would need to keep the barrow coming by his side, and tried to balance it with the rope and his barely functioning other arm.  
”Let's go, lover... fireplace and bedclothes are waiting. Chicks at some later point, though.” Two pairs of grim eyes met each other and Ray saw once again those tried muscles starting to work to make the impossible happen.  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
'Fireplace and bedclothes'... goddamit. And GODDAMIT how it hurt! Every pebble on the bank hit right into Ray's spine. He wasn't able to see very close so he soon learned to watch the swinging border of darkness behind silent Bodie who carefully half carried, half pulled the barrow backwards. For a while all that could be heard was the rattle of the wheel and scraping of the stands against the ground, Bodie's breathing and Ray's occasional short warnings on stones or holes approaching from darkness and orders to step more right in the bank as it curved a little. Now he wanted answers from Bodie; what had happened, why the fucking car ended into the river, how the hell the already almost staggering partner of his planned to get him in that fucking cottage, what would happen if... but none of that got out onto his lips. Not now. He was full of sizzling anger and pain but his head was clear enough for him to control it. He saw the sweat on Bodie's pale face and knew his mate had shut everything else but this riverbank outside his consciousness simply because it was all that mattered, because there was no energy left to tackle with anything unnecessary. Ray knew that some women said men had tubular brains and if they only knew Bodie now, his world being like two yards wide and 4 yards long ... Despite the pain a chuckle escaped, followed by a groan and the movement stopped instantly.  
”Just go on, it was nothing.”  
Bodie hesitated and Ray saw he was bleeding again and trying to blink the blood away from his eye.  
”Go on now, never mind a little wince.” Ray saw his mate's jaw  tighten so he quickly continued. ”I mean it, Bodie. Don't waste time now but just bloody get us out from here as fast as you can. And don't stop with every bloody wince I let out. I just hurt, ok? I tell you to stop if I need you to.” Ray was out of breath.  
Bodie's tired mind knew his mate must have broken ribs but there was nothing he could do before they got in the cabin. ”Worse?” he grunted, making the barrow move again.  
”Nah. Not really. Hey, there's a curve coming, see?”  
Bodie peered carefully over his shoulder and corrected his route. Good... if he remembered right, after that the bottom of the bend would get more level and he could get to pulling for the last legs. Maybe it would help him to keep his head on his shoulders. Or at least keep his shoulders.  
”Stones, careful...”  
They had made it to the bend.  
Bodie moved one step at the time, searching for foothold and room for the barrow, partially wading in the water. He was breathing heavily and Ray kept a worried eye on him, until he noticed it. ”Keep your eyes on the ground,” Bodie growled.  
Finally they were behind the bend, and Ray saw a tiny dot of light ahead. ”Oi, there's something, a light?”  
Bodie grinned despite his weariness. ”Yeah, there should be, left a lamp to mark our landing-point.” He felt relieved, especially so as now the ground under his feet was a lot more level. He could finally turn the barrow and start pulling. So he stopped and left the rope down his aching shoulder where it had supported a big part of the combined weight of his mate, their luggage and the barrow, and pushed the barrow a little further to level ground  
When he bent down to take the rope loose from siderail, he felt his head spin. ”Oh, shite...” He managed to stay on his feet and noticed Ray staring at him. ”Almost slipped” he lied. ”Bloody stones.” He took hold on to the wheel for support with his good hand and managed to tug open one knot. His dizziness eased a little and he managed the other knot without support.  
”You've been some  regular boy-scout” Ray grimaced at him.  
It took a moment before Bodie got it and chuckled. ”Yeah... the golden boy of Baden-Powell.” Although good old BP would probably have got a pink fit if he knew what kind of scouting Bodie had done. Anyway Ray had kept alert, although Bodie saw clearly his mate was not doing well. Ray wasn't too sensitive to pain, hell he had taken more blows and hits and cuts than half any bloody army regiment, but Bodie had never seen him quite like this and he had to ask himself how much did it take from his mate to stay conscious... but maybe the cold fought the pain, and vice versa.  
He'd better get moving again before he himself would drop for good.  
”Ok mate, we put a stop to this feet first -business. I turn this wagon of yours now and start pulling it. We can move a lot faster but I can't deal with the jolts from this on, can you take that?”  
”Can you take the pulling?” asked Ray back.  
”Yeah. I can. Because we don't have any bloody alternative.”  
Ray looked up to that bruised, blooded, pale, wet face. ”Go on then” was all he said, and Bodie moved to take the handrail and started to work to turn the barrow. And when he got it done, he managed to slide the rope under the leather straps of his harness behind his back, and tied both ends of the rope to the handrail.  
”Ready?”  
'We don't have any alternative' still rang in Ray's head. We. Said as the most natural word in the whole fucking world. We. Not you.  
”Ready.”  
  
  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Ray made it to the lantern. Cursing often, wailing occasionally. But he didn't ask Bodie to stop, ever. Those minutes were days and the pain blocked all the other thoughts from his head, just the need for it to be over soon, to stop, to go away. Bodie heard him... and didn't know what was the worst to bear, the wails or the silences after them. But he fixed his consciousness into the lantern which approached slowly and steadily, and into the ground before his feet. It was only steps, one after another... nothing more complicated than that... Dizziness came and went, and came again but somehow he managed to stay on his feet. And the lantern approached, step by step, yard by yard, until finally it was close enough to be grabbed in his good hand.  
Bodie forced himself to turn and step beside his partner. Ray was so pale... deadly pale. But he fixed his eyes on Bodie's.  
”Say goodbye to the river... next stop the house.”  
Ray couldn't make himself to speak, but his gaze softened a little and he blinked.    
Bodie took another deep breath and moved ahead again, turned the barrow and started to follow the path, his gaze fixed on the lights gleaming out from the windows of the cottage... He knew he was fading, and fading fast, but the sight of those lights made him to push his weight against his harness and take that step, and the next one, and the one after that, and his head down he was truly like a mule, determined and headstrong, every muscle forcing his load to rise closer and closer to the doorway he knew be waiting...    
… and he reached it, finally, swaying on his feet, puffing and gasping.  
Bodie stared at the doorframe... pitifully bloody narrow.  How the hell he could... Desperation filled his mind for a second.  
He stood still for a moment, catching his breath and trying to make his thoughts clearer. Ok one thing at the time... how about starting with opening the door...  
Ray felt a distinct warmth come out and forced his eyes open. He noticed they were on a farmyard and from faint noises realised Bodie was trying to get rid of his harness. Then Bodie appeared into Ray's sight, tugging open the knots of ropes he had used to secure Ray's seat into the barrow, and taking one by one their belongings. Ray heard his mate go in and stop there for a moment before moving again. Ray almost yelled at him, but at the last moment realised Bodie was trying to find a way to help him in, and snapped his mouth shut. He heard something being dragged and Bodie finally appeared again, with an apologetic expression.  
”Sorry mate, can't drive your car in. I need to get you down with your seat and pull you. And that will probably hurt too but maybe a mattress helps to take the worst.”  
And so Bodie started the arduous, painful task of getting Ray off the barrow. The rails which had helped to get Ray safely fastened were now of course the worst obstacles and everything got stuck in them. Bodie didn't know where he found the strength and the energy, he was at times blinded and at times had to rest on his knees, but in a few minutes swearing and groaning Ray, still on his seat, was lying on an old mattress which Bodie had mercilessly grabbed from the bedroom, and somehow, bloody hell, somehow Bodie still found enough... something, to eventually find both himself and Ray in front of the fireplace where merry flames flickered.  
They just breathed for a while, inhaling the blessed warmth, before Ray had the sense to mutter ”Go shut the door, Bodie.”  
And that man who was known to be ruthless and cold, wiped his teary eyes, staggered on his feet, and went to shut the night away.  
  
  
  
Chapter 8  
  
Bodie stayed away from Ray's sight for a moment. He needed to gather himself. Bodie had dealt with many sorts of wounds and injuries... but this... god, and it was Ray... he had enough knowledge to be aware that if he made – if he already had made - one wrong move, he might ruin any chance for Ray's recovery. He might have done that already. But he had to do something... if only his head wouldn't hurt so much... It was hard to think, hard to concentrate... If only it wasn't Ray! He had nobody else, just that rugged golli, he mattered more than girls... he mattered more than anyone. Not that he would ever admit it, no...  
”Bodie?”  
Oh shit.  
”Just a sec, Ray.” Bodie tried to get his head clearer, to no avail.  
But he had to return, so eventually he did that.  
Ray saw straight to the door and despite his own pain, seeing approaching Bodie he now realised his mate wasn't in much better condition than he was himself. Bodie saw the fright emerge into Ray's face and suddenly realised how he must look like. He tried to sound cheerful.  
”Kinda think this jacket is pretty much ruined, or should I use it at work? Giving the street credibility they talk about, eh?” Bodie managed to get the jacket off and searched for the first-aid kit he had packed in their belongings.  
”Your head...”  
”Oi, never mind that. It looks worse than it is. Just got knocked, and cut a bit. It isn't that bad. I'll deal with it once I've got you sorted out, mate. But we need warm water... and a bit of this and that... but you need warmth first. Just a sec...”  
Bodie had managed to set his brain into practical again. Simple things... He moved the electric radiators closer to Ray, then walked into the kitchen, found a big kettle in seconds and filled it with water and put the kettle on a gas-stove. He washed his hands as well as he could, and tried to get rid of most blood on his face. Washing his face he realised how much he still froze and it hit him he had to get Ray changed into dry clothes, or at least get his wet ones off. And he had to try and check Ray... oh Christ...    
Ok Bodie, calm down... one thing at the time... his head was spinning again but he breathed deep and promised himself to sit down once Ray was settled. But he had no time to lose... If only his head wouldn't hurt so much... Painkillers. Duncan said the old man had a bad hip so there might be some heavy duty painkillers if they were lucky...  
Bodie set off to explore and his rummaging through cupboards and closets made shivering Ray open his eyes again from his half-doze. Bodie didn't find medicine in kitchen, but he found good scissors which he grabbed, and tea which made him use 15 secs to fill another kettle and get it on too. Next Bodie went into the bedroom and checked the drawers... oh la la! His fingers trembled when he grabbed the box he found... He rushed back to the living-room.  
”Ok mate, this is starting to look a bit brighter. The old bugger has this... Indo-something and it reads painkiller... Just a sec...” Bodie had grabbed a mug of water but instantly when returning, realised Ray couldn't drink lying on his back that way, yet would it hurt more if he lifted the headrest? Oh bloody hell...  
Bodie took a couple pieces of firewood and managed to sneak them under the headrest so it rose some inches from the mattress. ”Still all right mate?” The flash in Ray's eyes told him that it would maybe never be all right again, but the curlyhead just grunted.  
Bodie checked the dosage of the painkiller and instantly decided to double it. ”Ok, here goes, take these first and I'll start to get those wet clothes off you, and check on you, and then we're going to have a nice cup of tea and some of that stuff we took with us and I'll look around a bit more. Oi, hey I think I saw straws in the kitchen... hold on...” Bodie rushed back to the kitchen where their tea-water was already boiling, and quickly set the tea to brew. And right, yeah there were straws deep in a cupboard behind cookies and sugar, probably left from some visiting kids. Those gave Bodie another idea, but it would have to wait until he was finished with Ray otherwise, so he took a straw with him to living-room, and served gently and carefully the tablets to his mate with water.  
”Right-o, Raimondo... now we get rid of those wet clothes of yours. I try to be as careful as ever possible... I just go and get another quilt for you or something like that.” Off to bedroom it was again, where he found another big, lovely quilt in a closet. The aroma of tea tickled Bodie's nose so he threw the quilt into the living-room and made quickly a mug of tea for his partner. At least Ray would get something warm inside. Oh and a lot of sugar...    
  
Bodie left the mug beside the mattress until he got started with undressing his partner. With a lot of swearing he managed to push his hand under the backrest and pull loose the screwdrivers so that he got the seatbelts loose. Bloody hell he should have thought about it earlier... Then he started to pull Ray's boots. It proved to be difficult, the wet and slippery boots were as if glued and it was hard to work with them. But after a couple of minutes the first boot was tossed into corner and soon after that it's partner too. Then flew the socks and Bodie quickly brushed his mate's feet with a dry corner of the quilt he had had on him, and served Ray the tea while pondering how he would tackle the rest of clothing without moving his partner. Ray wasn't lying flat on his back but the lower part of the seat held his thighs a little upwards. It crossed Bodie's mind that it might hinder some circulation to Ray's calves and he started to wonder what he could do about it. He sighed. Better continue again.  
Ray had thankfully swallowed the strong, sweet tea, it felt so good... so warm. He watched his silent partner and suddenly found it... overwhelming... to be so helpless, so at Bodie's mercy... His eyes filled with fear.  
Bodie, unbuttoning Ray's eternal jeans, heard his friend's breathing change and looked at him. Ray avoided his gaze but Bodie saw enough to understand. He pursed his lips for a moment and then suddenly pinched Ray's toe as hard as he could. Ray's foot flinched a bit.  
”What the hell you think you're doing?”  
”Checking on you, sunshine.” Bodie continued to work with Ray's jeans and touched Ray's foot again when his mate was not watching. Slight tickling seemed to cause no reaction but at least there was some feeling left... he would continue with it later. ”Now Ray, here starts the part some of the guys would love to hear about... Close your eyes, lie back and think of England.”  
And astonishingly, Ray, startled by the echo of a feeling in his toe, and comforted by the flickering warmth on his face, didn't say a word but sighed  and succumbed to the frightening humiliation of his mate's hand starting to nudge and pull the bottom of his jeans little by little.  
  
  
  
Chapter 9  
  
”Chrissake... I'm a bloody...”  
Ray was startled by his mate's hiss. ”What?”  
”This seat, what's the point in trying to get you dry if you have to lie on it as it's soaked all through? It's dripping bloody water and the mattress is soon soaked too. Mate, you'd better start thinking about it while I search for a good towel.”  
Ray grabbed the practical thankfully. He wanted desperately to think about anything else than his helplessness... ”Planks? Boards? Shelves? If you manage to sneak one under my back when I still have my clothes on? And then somehow pull the seat from under me?”  
Bodie was delighted – not only because the idea but because of his mate. There was a bookshelf, worth a try... the shelf wasn't too thick but it was solid wood and might be broad enough. ”Ok mate – shall we give it a try right now?”  
”What's the point in waiting?” was Ray's reply.  
Bodie walked to the bookshelf and emptied one of the shelves quickly. Yepp solid wood, some 12 inches wide...  he would just have to be extremely careful.  Thank goodness he hadn't yet stripped his mate, the thick clothes would prevent the board from scraping too bad and Ray's jacket had a hard slippery surface.  
Again Bodie felt his head spin. God he would have to be quick with it... but Ray must not slip sideways, so he would need to make sure the plank stayed level when he tried to remove the seat. The pieces of firewood would maybe help there.  
Bodie didn't waste a moment more. Two minutes after Ray's suggestion he was already removing the belt he had used to secure Ray's head against headrest, and he started to stuff the shelf between Ray's jacket and the backrest, pulling Ray from his jacket every now and then. Bodie was sweating again almost instantly and Ray winced a few times, but in a couple of minutes the board was actually in its place and Ray felt he would soon suffocate as the end of the board had pushed his jacket and pullover down with it and they pressed his throat. Ray grunted but didn't give any further complaints when Bodie removed the pieces of firewood from under the backrest and put one under the board's end.  
”I would appreciate you staying REALLY calm and quiet now, mate. Your weight will be the only thing holding you on that board... any bloody paramedic would kill me for even trying this. Now I have to start trying to pull the seat.”  
”Don't.”  
”Why? Do you prefer the wet seat after all?”  
”No. I just meant don't try to pull the seat. You won't manage with that arm of yours without sideyanks. Push.”  
Bodie was puzzled. He just didn't get it. ”Eh?”  
”Push with your feet. Sit behind my head, you can hold the board with your hands, and push the seat with your feet. Should be more even movement that way and seat is pretty close to the end of the mattress, right? When you get it over the edge it might be easy to pull or push the rest.”  
Again Ray was out of breath so Bodie just clapped him briefly on the shoulder. ”Good thinking, mate.” He removed his cold wet booties and did as Ray had suggested, sat on the mattress behind the curly head, took a tight grip of the board, and firmly placed his heels against the backrest by Ray's shoulders.  
”Ready?”  
”Go on before you strangle me...”  
And Bodie did. He managed to pull the board some, while pushing the seat with his feet and as he also managed to grab with his better hand hold of Ray's jacket's neck, he actually got the seat move the inches it needed, sliding under the board, over the edge of mattress, and from there Bodie managed to continue pulling carefully as Ray's weight held the shelf. And finally, in a couple of minutes Ray was free from the seat, pale and shaky, but still not complaining. And Bodie, gasping and feeling his brain would explode any minute, used the last of his strength to pull his mate further on the board so that Ray's feet also got on the mattress, with a pillow from the settee under his hams; then to pull the shelf itself away from under his mate. Bodie swallowed a couple of the painkillers and the last water from the mug, and although he knew he should have some rest, he didn't dare to sit or lay down, fearing he wouldn't get up again.  
  
”Ok mate, now it's off with yer clothes finally. No more foreplay.”  
Green eyes were watching him. ”I manage. Rest.”  
”Not bloody likely. It's not that warm here. And I want to do it when I still can. Can't guarantee that later.”  
”Bodie -”  
Alarmed Ray was interrupted: ”Shut up mate. Just shut up. It's only minutes, I rest after that.” And Bodie lowered himself on his knees beside his mate.  
It was tricky, to try and get Ray's jeans down, them being tight, soaked and Ray's weight on them. Bodie simply didn't dare to lift his mate anymore... so all he could do was to try little by little by little, his fingers getting soon tired and numb. But there was no choice, the pants had to get off, the room was not warm enough to maintain the body-temperature of his already hypothermiac mate.  
It took quite a while before Bodie managed to pull the waist of the jeans over the hips and he was already so frustrated that he decided to go for the underpants at the same time. Luckily they were a lot more flexible. When the worst was thus over, it wasn't that hard to manage the rest of the journey. Bodie felt embarassed... not because of nudity of his mate, but because of the whole situation, because he felt that he might break Ray, who suddenly seemed... so absolutely helpless... fragile.  
Ray didn't know what was the worst... the humiliation he had suffered when Bodie started to undress him, or the tenderness of his mate carefully rubbing him dry with a big towel he had dug out from somewhere.  
Then Bodie gently covered Ray's lower part with the clean warm quilt which had been hanging over a radiator, and moved to ease Ray's arms from the sleeves of his jacket and likewise he managed to do the same with the pullover. The jacket slid easily enough from under Ray, but the neck of the pullover was so unco-operative that finally swearing Bodie grabbed the scissors and slashed the pullover open before being able to pull it away. And he was so tired and angry that he did the same to Ray's vest despite his mate's complaints.  
After he had thrown the now useless piece of fabric away, Bodie forced himself to calm down. ”Sorry 'bout that...”  
Ray didn't have time to open his mouth as Bodie gestured him to stay quiet, and rubbed him thoroughly dry, carefully checking the bruises and fingering his ribs. At least two broken ribs... ”How bad does it feel? Can you breathe properly?”  
”Been worse, nothing punctured I think. Just need to breathe careful”.  
Bodie was content, he trusted his mate's experience in that matter. ”Good... hard to try and bind them. Still feeling arms and fingers and such?”  
”Could bang yer head if you want to test,” came the instant reply, and a corner of Bodie's mouth twitched.  
”Neck?” asked Bodie feeling about Ray's stomach-area.  
”Definitely not there... ” Bodie was forced to chuckle. ”Hurts but is better since the support.”  
Bodie continued to probe and frowned. ”What about this?” Ray felt the pressure and swore. Bodie sighed. ”All right, mate, it's better we sort this out now before I try to get pants back on you.” He went to search the things he would need, and blushing Ray Doyle shut his eyes tightly, the soon commencing ultimate humiliation starting to swell in his mind.  
   
Bodie decided to take a look on the other drawers he hadn't checked in the bedroom, and soon pained Ray heard his whistle and an awe-filled ”Oh bloody hell...”  
Bodie emerged back to the door, carrying something in his hands. ”You're so not gonna believe this, mate. This is something absolutely unbelievable. You know, when we get out from here we'd better buy that old chum Duncan's grandpa a box of whisky. Big box. Or a whole bloody barrell while we're at it... that stingy Scot... ”  
To his amazement Ray saw an actual broad grin on his mate's face. ”Oi, have you found his life's savings or what? A million quids?”  
”Even better, old son, even better... from this on I never complain about those oldsters who hoard everything they ever get in their hands... believe me mate, that old man saved you from a LOT of pain... ” Bodie had left the box on the table and went into the kitchen, having something in his hand. Ray didn't see what it was but had the very uncomfortable feeling he would find out all too soon.  
And so he did.  
When Bodie returned, Ray saw not only canisters in his hand, but also a thin tube that he recognized instantly. ”Oh chrissake...”  
Bodie looked at him sternly. ”You'd better be thankful, Raymond. At least this is something that has been made to that purpose. I guarantee you wouldn't have liked any alternatives I might have found here, like those straws... besides, this looked like it hasn't been used, just taken out the package, but I sterilized it anyway.”  
Ray was miserable. ”Can't it at least wait?”  
Bodie felt a pang of pity being forced to add even this to the misery his mate was in. ”No.” He sighed. ”Listen mate, nobody's coming here tonight. And your bladder is full already. If I do it now, you manage well overnight. I may not be able to move you, if... you know... ” Ray knew. If he would wet himself.  
Bodie sighed again. ”And to be honest, I don't know if I'll be able to do this anymore tonight if we wait too long.” They looked at each other in silence, each worried sick over the other.  
Ray gave up. ”You know how it's done then?”  
”I've been taught how, and I've done it before in the bushes... been done to me too, you know that. So no worries mate, nurse Bodie at your service.”  
”That nurse 'd better nurse himself too and rather sooner than later,” Ray grunted.  
Bodie's mouth tightened. He was going through the tubes, jars and bottles he had found and decided to ignore Ray's remark. He needed to find some sort of lubricant... There was also a box with tablets... he took out the paper from the box and gave it a glance. Dexamethasone... for rheumatoid arthritis... anti-inflammatory... he tossed the paper on Ray's chest. ”Take a look, could this be useful?” At least reading might help keeping Ray's mind occupied the next minutes... Bodie went to fetch the clean pure warm water and towel he had reserved for cleaning Ray and returning, pulled the quilt down and started to tend to his partner.  
  
Ray tried in vain to concentrate on the paper while his partner took care of the humiliating process. It wasn't so much the physical discomfort, that was nothing compared with what he had experienced with his back before the painkiller had started to take the worst edge... or even the process itself, Ray had been hospitalized enough times to have it done to him before... but this was no hospital, and it was not a nurse paid for it... It was... Ray felt like suffocating.  
”Just relax” came the quiet, matter-of-factly note from his mate who was now totally concentrated on the medical.  
Ray tried to breathe evenly and let go of his anxiety. He thought about his mate. He didn't know anyone else, who after all this time - after all these years, tens of thousands of hours spent together, working, fooling around, relaxing in some bar or fighting for their lives, hell, more time than most ever spent with their wives - still could surprise him. He knew his mate so well, and yet, like this evening, Bodie had pulled out skills he never could have anticipated...  
He stole a peek at his mate who was following what was happening in the transparent plastic tube. Ray's humiliation took over. ”Chrissake, Bodie, do you really have to watch it?”  
Bodie looked at him, surprised. ”Actually, yes. Need to see if there's blood.” And he turned his head back as he had said the most natural thing in the world.  
Ray stared at his mate's head, wordless.  
”The back any better?” Bodie asked without turning his attention from the immediate.  
”A bit, pills are starting to kick in.”  
”Thought so, you look a tad better. Got any sense out of that paper?”  
Ray lifted it again in front of his eyes and tried to get through the medical jargon. ”Something about reducing the swelling here... yeah, I s'pose if it works that way, it might help with the spinal cord... ”  
Bodie thought a moment. ”With a meal or to empty stomach?”  
”Not hungry”, grunted Ray.  
”I didn't ask if you were, did I?” Bodie threw a side-glance at his mate. ”We need to eat, haven't got a decent meal since... ever. Took our stuff from the car.  Besides we're pretty much finished with this for now. What if I throw some more wood in the fire, take a couple of those soup-cans, and slice some bread for sandwiches? Oh and sorry mate, looks like it's time to take this out...”  
Ray couldn't help but groan a couple of foul words. Clearly that was a part where nerves still were functioning. Removing the tube didn't luckily feel as bad as inserting it had done.  
”Yeah, I know mate, no matter how pretty the nurse, still it feels...”  
Ray looked at his partner and grimaced. ”Not even a blind bat could call you pretty. I won't take a bite of any food before you get changed into dry clothes and clean your face properly. That wound doesn't look good even on you. And I want to see how your ribcage looks like, and that shoulder of yours. And once we've eaten, you bloody hell lay down and quit with your stunts for today, you hear me?”  
Bodie chuckled, that started to sound like Ray. ”Yeah Mum...”  
Staggering to his feet Bodie looked at a clock on the wall and was astonished. Hell, it was only 8 pm and felt like it could have been way past midnight! He gave the fire more food, and the pieces of firewood reminded him that Ray would maybe have it difficult to eat having his head so low, so he took another shelf from the bookcase, pulled that with the previous one under the mattress and managed to lift the end with pieces of firewood again.  
”Still ok for your back?”  
”Yeah, thanks... and now you bloody moron, get changed!”  
”All right all right... will just take these out and put the soup on...”  
Bodie found the bathroom, emptied the canisters, and flushed them along with the tube. He would have to sterilize it before next use... hope it would last in case there would be further need... Oh shite... he let out a deep, shaky sigh. Jesus. He had never felt this way... how the hell would he make it through the night?  
  
  
  
Chapter 10  
  
Ray waited to hear Bodie move and every second of silence made his worry grow. Now as his pain had subdued somewhat, and the hypothermia was giving gradually in, he was able to pay attention more and had detected the slowness in the movements of his otherwise agile partner, staggering that was now evident, and occasional  tardiness of thought. He just had to get Bodie to rest... and get a good look at him. And a good talk. Ray wasn't stupid. As carefully and as efficiently as his mate was taking care of him, Ray also had noticed him taking every opportunity to get out of sight. He didn't know why, but intended to find out. He needed to find out.  
  
”Oi, nurse?”  
Bodie forced himself to straighten up. ”Something the matter?”  
”Not with me. You were quiet though.”  
Bodie cursed under his breath. ”Will be there in a few.” He filled his lungs to their limit and tried to ease his tension with the air he slowly let out. Ok, no way around it, he had to get on with his chores. And he had to face Ray, sooner or later.  
Bodie relieved himself quickly – bloody hell he really should get dry clothes too, couldn't be much better than Ray - and went to kitchen. There was still quite some boiling water on the gas, so he took the opportunity and poured some of it in another kettle for cleaning Ray's face and hands. Might as well use some for his own head too... the rest he used for sterilizing the catheter again. After that, Bodie scrubbed his hands thoroughly. Teawater was also on, so he went to fetch Ray's mug and collected the water bowl at the same time.  
Bodie left the tea brew for the both of them, while he rummaged through the food they had taken along.  
”Tomato, Onion, Minestrone, Noodle?”  
”Whatever you fancy”.  
Bodie took another tin in his hand and looked at it incredulously. ”What on bloody earth... cat-food?”  
”Well, yeah, Duncan mentioned the kitten that had gone missing when the grandpa was leaving for the hospital. I didn't know if they left food for him and thought we might...”  
”You're an old softy, ya know. Cats fend for themselves.” However, Bodie took that can too to be opened. He could leave some food on the plate he remembered seeing on the stairs.. oh and the barrow had better be moved too... oh and bloody hell, the lanterns, he had forgot them burning.  
Hissing he managed to open the cans. Bloody arm was almost totally useless... He also quickly sliced some bread and covered the slices with cheese, plus ham for himself and tomato and sweet red pepper for Ray. He put the soup on small fire so that the aroma might give his mate some appetite.  
Bodie went to the door with the cat-tin. ”Will have a peek out and put out the lanterns, forgot all about them.”  
Bodie quickly put out the first lantern that was right outside the door. Just when he had spooned a little catfood on the saucer, the agent detected movement. Tips of ears... tip of tail?  
”Oiii, kitty... you there? Come have some dinner, you little animal... come on... kitty-kitty-kitty...” Bodie let the saucer down after futile calls and went to push the barrow farther from the door. He saw from the corner of his eye a tiny figure rush to the plate and devour the contents in seconds. The tiny beast must have been starving. At the first move of the biped, the figure vanished again.  
Bodie returned to the door with the second lantern and also collected the other one and the can. And just as he meant to pull the door shut after him, he noticed the kitten was just outside the door, peeking in. And looking bloody rugged and miserable.    
”Come on... I don't intend to stand here all night, you know.”  
”Who're you talking to?”  
”Looks like we got company. If this sorry little animal would care to drag its bum inside, that is. Or then I just leave more food out.”  
Ray protested immediately. ”You can't leave 'im out! It's bloody cold there.”  
”Listen, it'll soon be bloody cold in here too if I keep this door open much longer!”  
Ray heard the annoyed tone in his mate's voice and started to call the cat softly. Hunger, fatigue and curiosity made the tiny creature sneak in. Bodie sighed and resisted his lust to kick it. At least his soppy mate would have something to keep his mind occupied with.  
  
The scent of soup was starting to tickle Bodie's tastebuds but he remembered his promise to Ray. And his mate had better to get some more clothing too... Bodie stirred the kettle, turned the flame even smaller, and got back to the living-room, starting to look for clothes. He considered getting another pullover for Ray, but thinking of the effort it would take to put it on, he just decided to tuck his mate better under the quilts until he would find something easier to dress on and settled on long underpants for the time being. Ray's legs would need to be kept as warm as possible. That reminded him... he went to bedroom to grab the woollen socks he had seen in one closet, and took the bathing water and tissue-paper he had found.  
”Ok, let's put some more clothes on you, or the kitty will start to think we have something x-rated in mind. Where's the little monster anyway?”  
”Probably hiding under the settee, at least that's where he seemed to be heading.”  
Ray quietly tolerated yet another humiliation, having his partner pulling his pants up, and to Ray's amazement, Bodie also started to wipe his face and hands with wet paper.  
”Thought it might be nicer to eat if you feel a bit cleaner.” Bodie quickly dried his mate where he had wiped him and pulled the quilt over his mate's skinny but muscular chest.  
”Right, Bodie, don't try and sneak away, it's your turn now. Get changed to dry clothes and let me see around you how many other holes there are in your hide.”  
Bodie yielded and started to undress. He managed to get out of his trousers and rub himself dry with the towel before getting dry underpants on, but when he tried to get rid of his blouse, he simply couldn't lift his upper arm anymore and every move to it made him wince. He finally got his arm from the sleeve, but trying to pull the blouse off with one hand looked so painstaking that Ray ordered his mate to come to his side and kneel down, and he took hold of the fabric with his other hand so that Bodie was able to pull himself out. That caused the wound in Bodie's temple to open up again so Ray told Bodie to get the first-aid kit and search for plaster, and carefully helped his mate to clean the wound and managed to get the wound's edges quite tight together before helping to plaster it. And before Bodie had time to pull off, Ray cleaned his face the same way he had done to Ray a moment earlier.  
Ray's worry grew as he realised that slightest  touch on Bodie's temple made the man flinch. Bloody hell... his mate should be really careful with that skull.  
”Ok now, let me see...” Ray's eyes widened when he focused on the terribly bruised shoulder. ”What the hell happened up there, Bodie? Did you crash with something?”  
”I must have... isn't that fucking obvious? I just don't remember. I remember waking up in the car, couldn't see a thing because of that blood and I couldn't use my arm, and car, it was hanging sort of sideways, and then it slid and somersaulted down the slope...” Bodie swallowed as the horrible noise rang again in his ears. ”And then we were in the river, and when I got the blood away  you were face down in the water and... and I pulled you up and you were not breathing... it took me some minutes... eternity...”  
Ray looked at his mate with undecipherable expression. ”So... you resuscitated me?”  
”Yeah.” Bodie was again in that car, his eyes tightly shut.  
Ray looked at him, and all the anger that he had stored in himself, evaporated. Whatever had happened up there... it must have been something nobody could have stopped from happening. Raymond Doyle looked at his mate, his partner, almost jet-black hair with traces of blood, pale, drawn face with slight sweat on the brow, muscular, bruised, scratched body decorated by older scars also. That strong, cold, hard man, kneeling beside him, breathing unevenly, as if shivering. Bodie had gone through that all toil and labour as if in his stride, to get Ray in safety, and now he looked like he could shatter into pieces any second.  
”Bodie?” Ray's voice was soft, almost inaudible.  
”Yeah?” Bodie sounded suffocated.  
”Look...” Ray cleared his throat. He had no words. He found none, no matter how hard he tried. Instead he stretched his better arm and touched his mate's, and let it stay there until Bodie looked at him. ”Why don't you find another mattress or something here, you know I need to wake you up during the night to see if your brain works even the pitiful way it does usually. And then, I'd like to have some of that soup, if you don't mind. And then, you put that thick cracked skull of yours on a pillow and you won't lift it before tomorrow, all right?” Ray gave a little squeeze with his hand and then nudged his mute partner. ”Get going you dumb crud. And bring a plate also to our little mate here if he's willing to join us.”  
Ray watched his mate stagger on his feet and both of them were thankful for the chance to wipe their eyes unnoticed.  
The little thin kitten watched intensively when Bodie soon emerged dragging another mattress and bedclothes, and then returned from kitchen carrying carefully a tray with a kettle and plates and mugs and a pile of sandwiches. The scents of soup and ham caught the tiny nose which emerged from under the sofa, and uttering a mild profanity Bodie returned to kitchen to fetch the saucer he had already filled with catfood.  
Ray took his pills and they had their meal in silence which this time was comfortable. The little kitten crawled carefully closer and emptied his saucer in no time he too. After Bodie had taken the towel he had used as Ray's napkin, taken their dishes to kitchen and quickly washed them, and tossed a couple of more pieces of firewood into the fireplace, and taken the alarm-clock Ray insisted be put on at 2 am, he finally laid himself down and turned to his side to watch Ray.  
Bodie wasn't sleepy, just feeling totally worn out, so he followed with great interest how the sorry-looking kitten, all ears and thin tail, made Ray's aquaintance. When the kitty got himself on Ray's mattress, Bodie almost chased him away, but Ray stopped him. To his astonishment, Bodie saw the little creature very gently and carefully examine his partner, clearly aware Ray was hurt, before turning attention to him. And both Bodie and Ray, who saw it from the corner of his eye, felt their eyes get moist when tiny paws pressed gently against Bodie's cheek, and the purring little creature started to tenderly clean the blood from Bodie's short hair.  
  
Ray watched from the corner of his eye how the tiny tabby systematically and meticulously cleaned and groomed the hair on his mate's temple, occasionally stopping for a second to sniff. It was fascinating... it really looked like as if the kitty was assessing the damage, knowing there was hurt... and that constant purring, it was such a soothing sound... Bodie's eyes were still open but he was quiet, as if being somewhere else, tension gradually fading from his face. Ray felt amused, as his mate had never much cared about any kinds of ”flea-bags” and usually that feeling had been mutual. Or not amused really... oddly moved he was. This little thin feline had sneaked through Bodie's defences and here that thug was, head resting on his arm, seemingly ignorant of the world around him, although one little paw was resting against the side of his nose at the moment. Impressive.  
Ray noticed both gray and blue eyes turn to watch him. ”What?” Even the kitty looked at him very sternly, interrupted in mid-lick, tip of his tongue visible, sitting down on his bum like those prairie-dogs.  
”What what?” Ray frowned.  
”Impressive, you said. What is?” Bodie still hadn't moved his head and the kitty just lightly shifted his paw on the bridge of his nose, still watching Ray as if waiting for the answer he too.  
Ray didn't want to spoil this unusual moment between his mate and the tiny tabby, so he said the first thing that crossed his mind. ”Well, look how tiny that fella is, and still he has managed all by himself for a few days now. He should still be nursed by mama and not try to fend for 'imself.”  
”All skin an' bone he is,” admitted Bodie, ”bet he would fly in the air with a paper bag to his tail.”  
Kitty looked at him, and then all of a sudden went to Ray and pushed Ray's cheek with his head, purring loudly. ”Oi mate, that rogue didn't mean the bag-thing... Say it to him, Bodie!”  
Bodie only snorted, half amused, half hurt for this sudden rejection, and the kitty watched him while rubbing himself against Ray. ”He's not that bad for a cat,” Bodie finally said. Kitty looked at him, and decided to return to finish with the cleaning.  
”Makes you wonder what moves in his 'ead,” said Ray, smiling.  
Bodie snorted again, but tiny warm rough tongue had already started to work its charm. ”He's a bit like you, you know... rugged and skinny and should be nursed by mama.”  
Bodie couldn't believe just what had slipped out his mouth, and wanted to bite his tongue.  
Ray was quiet for a while. The reality of his situation had returned in a blow.  
Bodie watched him and tried to guess what was going on in that curly head.  
”Do I have to be nursed? I mean... like for ever?”  
Bodie sighed and thought a while. If only he knew... ”Dunno mate. Wish I knew... I guess it depends. On what has happened in there, and what kind of damage there is... but folks get back on their feet, many of them. Anyway I know it's a bloody good sign you still have some feeling in your feet. It's far from hopeless, mate, believe me. And you know, today docs can fix things 10 years ago nobody could imagine fixing. You're stable now as far as I can tell, no internal bleedings, and you're on meds, good fitting stuff what I know of those, and you're not alone and I can help you with things so you can stay immobile with no worries.”  
”I just so hate it...” Ray swallowed. ”Being... helpless.”  
”Who wouldn't?” said Bodie sensibly. ”But right now there's not so much you can do about it. Take it this way: This only lasts for a couple of days at most, before that Duncan comes to check why we haven't got him the keys back, and why he can't reach us. I can keep you pretty much stable till that if for some reason I can't go get help myself. Then there's going to be a chopper rushing you into some state of the art fancy hospital and it's day at the time... we can't rush things.”  
Bodie fell silent for a moment which felt longer than it was. ”If it's of any worth, mate... Whatever it was that happened, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry...” He closed his eyes. ”I know it doesn't make any bloody difference...” Not even the kitty was able to take that pain away from his mind.  
Bodie felt something touch him but he couldn't force himself to open his burning eyes. Ray had managed to reach for him, and find his hand. He stubbornly held on even though Bodie tried to pull away.  
”Listen Bodie... sorry I growled at you in the car. It hurt like hell there... and anyway, whatever there was on the road, I kinda think anybody would have crashed. If you couldn't dodge with a Capri, pretty much nobody could have.” Ray was out of breath again and the kitty came to study him. Bodie opened his eyes finally but averted Ray's gaze. ”What I mean, mate, you don't have to apologize for anything. I live, Bodie. If I had somebody else with me, I wouldn't.”  
Ray fell silent for a moment too, trying to catch his breath.  
”It's just so scary, Bodie... to think, what if...” he couldn't continue.  
”Don't think about it then, not yet, not too much” said his mate's quiet voice. ”Take one day at the time. No use losing hope now. Anything can happen. It could be worse, a lot worse...  I know that much. Have seen things.” Yeah, have seen you face down in water, not breathing. Could be a lot worse. Bodie nudged his mate's hand. ”We're here and still kicking.”  
Tabby finally got satisfied with the quality of grooming he had performed, and settled between the lads, trying to reach them both at the same time, twisting and turning.  
”You too are kicking, animal. Go wash Ray's face for a change, dummy.”  
Bodie noticed that he was still practically holding Ray's hand. Ray didn't seem to notice, the kitty who had turned his attention to him, had already hypnotised him. Oh never mind, the arm hurt so much he didn't want to shift it.  
Bodie let the purring seep into his mind and closed his eyes.  
  
  
  
Chapter 11  
  
The little tabby enjoyed himself. These bipeds were calm and friendly, and warm. They were hurt though. It was good to have company, good to be warm, good to have something in his tummy. He could smell the hurts under bipeds' thin skins and he tried to be most careful. It was good to be touched and he gladly touched too, telling with his purring and gentle care that he was friendly and wanted to be a part of this group. Hurt as these two were, there was no smell of illness and these were hunters and had allowed him to have a share. He desperately needed the nutrition and the feeling of safety... so he did all he could to be accepted by these strangers. He knew that the one with wounds was more dangerous and he should make sure he was accepted by him. The one with breaks under skin and less breath, didn't move as much, but he talked with a friendly voice and he belonged to the same group with the bleeding one, and the two liked each other, so the kitty should make friends with him too. It looked like the bleeding one was helping the broken one but also the broken one tried to make the bleeding one feel better. It was a good group.  
Tabby had lost a lot of energy trying to make himself accepted. He started to feel weak, and quietly pulled back from Ray who suddenly woke back to reality when the licking stopped. Ray saw the kitty crouch and half shut his eyes. When kitty noticed he was being watched, he tried to purr as hard as he ever could.  
”Hey little one... what's the matter?”  
Bodie opened his eyes from his half-doze. ”What, what's the matter with whom?”  
”The kitty... look at him. He's not doing well, looks like he's shaking.”  
Bodie noticed Ray was right. He frowned. ”Oh bloody hell, what can be the matter with him? I'm not any damned veterinarian.”  
Ray thought. ”Well... he's tiny. And he definitely looks very young. He should be on milk, more or less, in that age. He hasn't eaten for a couple of days, and it's been cold out there... and maybe he hasn't got enough to drink either.” Again Ray was out of breath.  
Bodie watched the kitten. He didn't look ill really, was following their movements with clear eyes, but he certainly looked worn out and weak. Against his better knowledge Bodie moved his hand to touch the kitty and rubbed him gently with one finger. Kitten's skin felt loose in a funny way, and when Bodie gently rubbed his neck and pinched him a little, a fold of skin was left up for a moment. Bodie didn't know the first thing about cats and didn't care to either, but even for him that looked strange. ”Jesus... Ray, should their skin stay standing up when you pinch it?”  
Ray looked worried. He hadn't had pets since his childhood, but that didn't sound good. ”Maybe he's dehydrated. Can't much imagine him going to drink from the river and if he hasn't got mice he hasn't got fluids in his food either.”  
Bodie sighed. ”I knew I should have kicked that miserable rodent down the bloody stairs.” He sounded so annoyed that Ray couldn't know what his mate might do.  
”Bode, -”  
”Oh be quiet...” growled Bodie, painfully and slowly hoisting himself up from the mattress. Now Ray realised that his mate's other shoulder had a red, seemingly very irritated patch. That rope – and Ray's weight on it – must have almost excoriated the skin of his mate even under the clothing. And what it had done to the muscles under the skin, Ray didn't even dare to imagine. So Ray kept quiet and decided to stay so, whatever it was that his mate had in his mind.  
Bodie made it to his knees and grabbed the startled kitten in his hand before getting on his feet. ”Get here you little nuisance...”  
He headed away from Ray, so Ray wasn't able to see how carefully his mate secured the kitty against his chest. Although Bodie's first reaction had been a flash of anger, to feel that tiny, almost weightless little animal in his hand and the rapid heartbeat against his fingers, made the anger disappear just as quickly. Hell it wasn't the tabby's fault he had got into his mess, kitten only... Bodie took the kitty into the kitchen and left him on a table when he filled a small cup with water. The kitty didn't really seem to know what to do about it... oh bugger... ”Oh you little miserable pest, this is water and you're bloody supposed to drink it!” Bodie thought for a moment he would simply push the kitten's face into the water but that pitiful purring stopped him.  Without further ado, he simply put his finger into the water and lifted it dripping in front of kitty's nose. After a moment of wondering, tabby licked the finger. Bodie dipped his finger again, and again, after a couple of seconds, kitty licked the water from it. ”Well yeah I know, this doesn't taste like milk but we don't have any so you'd better get used to this...” What the hell, I'm talking to a damned cat, Bodie thought. This sure is fucking pathetic. And yet, he dipped his finger again, this time tabby licked the water without hesitation. Bodie sighed but continued.  
Watching the cat, it occurred to Bodie that Ray might need some more to drink he too. He should keep the kidneys working properly even if Ray didn't want to drink. It would also mean that he maybe had to use the catheter first thing in the morning, but better safe than sorry, thinking of the medicine also. Hell Ray wouldn't like that, at all. Bodie felt a pang for his mate.  
”Oi, what are the two of you up to?” Ray hadn't heard what Bodie said to the cat, and got worried as the minutes went by without him seeing his mate.  
”Trying to make this idiot cat of yours suck water from my finger.”  
”You... what?” Ray was dumbfounded. Bodie must have got brain-damage. Or then, the kitty had really put a spell on his mate.  
  
In the kitchen Bodie filled a jug with water. He gingerly managed to put the kitten on the floor and took their mugs and the jug into living-room, managing those with his better hand when the kitty's cup was in his other one. He poured some water into Ray's mug and ordered strictly his reluctant mate to drink it. He didn't see the kitty and when he went back to search for him, he saw tabby sitting in front of the door, and allowed him to slip out. Bodie added still some firewood and thought he might let the fire die during the night as it was nicely warm in front of the fireplace, the heaters would manage after the fire died and the quilts were nicely warm. Ray was startled when Bodie moved his quilt, and pinched him again. And again Ray's feet – yes, both of them – twitched a little. Bodie was content, it looked like the situation hadn't at least got worse.  
Ray noticed the smile. ”Do you get some special kick out of pinching me?”  
Bodie actually managed to raise his eyebrow and give the mischievous scoundrel look Ray had seen thousands of times. ”Dammit Bodie, you'd better mind that skull of yours if you come into my arms' range.”  
Bodie grinned. ”Sounds like you're feeling better, mate. And looks like that too, you're getting some colour back.”  
Ray thought for a moment. ”Yeah, I don't feel as drowsy and I have more feeling all around. And the back... it's kind of tolerable. When I don't try to move anything, that is.”  
Bodie was happy to hear that. ”Didn't I tell you not to worry? See now, things are not that bad anymore.” Bodie struggled back to his feet to check on the kitty, and sure enough, when he opened the door, the little creature sneaked back in and timidly followed Bodie when he started to put off lights for the night. It wasn't that late actually, but he felt he could hardly stay on his feet, so totally and utmostly knackered he was. There was a lamp standing in a corner which he left burning so that he wouldn't fall on anything if he needed to get up during the night. He made sure the medicines were at hand, as well as the water, and he even took the kitty's cup on the floor close by the mattress so that he wouldn't necessarily need to get up to offer more water to the tabby, who had sneaked carefully onto the mattress now, watching him from Ray's side.  
That should do. Bodie sighed and carefully manouvered himself on his own mattress and put his head on the pillow. His head still hurt and he felt somewhat wobbly, but now he was finally able to let go and relax.  
Ray watched his still pale mate. ”So... you tried to make the kitty suck water from your finger? They're never gonna believe that at the HQ, your hard-arse reputation is at stake, mate!” Bodie threw him with an ugly glance but held his tongue.  
Tabby was watching them both. He still didn't look much if any better, but at least he had got some fluids. And Bodie, tough, rough Bodie, had taken care of him. Just like he had taken care of Ray himself. Bodie had shifted closer to tiredly watch the tiny feline. Ray couldn't even imagine how tired his trusted mate must be.  
”Hey little fella, don't you think that big villain is worth a little purring still?”  
Bodie looked at Ray, surprised.  
”Don't get used to this, though. I'll bang your head the first given opportunity for pinching me. And no, it's not my cat. Looks like he has picked his numero uno mate” said Ray, noticing the tabby shyly sneaking at Bodie's side, and pressing himself against Bodie's throat and chest, his head right under Bodie's chin.  
Bodie felt embarassed for that... well, almost intimate touch, but the quiet purring did give such cozy feeling... without even realising it, he pulled his quilt over the little cat who after a couple of licks to Bodie's jaw, turned his back against his giant mate's warm body and fell asleep in the middle of washing his own face, his paw over his eyes in a most funny and strangely moving way.  
”Go to sleep you too, Bodie,” Ray whispered.  
”You sure?”  
”Yeah. I'm fine and I wake you up if anything happens.” Bodie looked at him suspiciously. Ray sighed. ”Or if I feel I need to move or if I feel bloody anything else whatsoever. I promise Bodie. I'm not sleepy but you are, so join your baby and just close your eyes. You look just as knackered as he is.”  
To Ray's surprise, Bodie reached for him with his sore arm and put his hand over Ray's wrist. ”Will know if you move too much,” came the muttered explanation and finally satisfied with the precautions, Bodie was able to allow his mind drift away from his aching body.  
  
Ray listened to Bodie's breathing get slower and deeper. And although he had feared the moment he'd be alone with his thoughts, the weight of that big hand on his wrist made him feel... safe.  
  
  
  
Chapter 12  
  
It was so frustrating, not even be able to turn head to have a look around. Bodie had done a good job with the neck-support. He had done a good job with so many things today, after getting into the river... starting with resuscitating Ray. God... resuscitating him in that wreck of a car. And it had taken minutes, he had said... Ray, remembering the look on Bodie's face, and his pained words, had no reason to disbelieve his mate.  
All Bodie had done for him today... Ray felt like suffocating and tears burned his eyes. That damned rogue, with all his quirks which sometimes made Ray want to thump him where it would hurt most, the clown who seemed to take nothing seriously, the thug who could scare the crap out of people just turning those icy blue eyes at them... the tough-guy who constantly mocked Ray for his soppy heart and eternal bad conscience, and some days got so up his nose with his idiotic remarks and badgering, that Ray seriously wondered if he should bother to show up the next morning at all... the things he had done today... Ray wondered if any person he knew could have managed half of it. Physically, maybe, he knew men that were more muscular and stronger than Bodie when it came to lifting weights and such, but who else could have used his head like Bodie today, who could have ignored his own hurts, dug out the guts and stamina... who would have cared for him, tended him like Bodie did, so matter-of-factly, as the most natural thing in the world? Who?  
Ray wondered how it was possible that he knew his mate so well, yet didn't seem to know him at all...  He stole a peek from the corner of his eye at  his sleeping patner, seeing the bruises on his head and shoulders, the plaster, scrapes and older scars from bullets and blades and god-knows-what, around that muscular body... and the tiny tabby his head on the same pillow right under Bodie's chin...  and still the weight on Bodie's hand against his wrist. If felt like that picture held in it so much about Bodie... also things that Ray maybe couldn't ever have imagined before.  
Ray turned his gaze back to the ceiling. Although he knew – as Bodie calmly had reminded him – that he wouldn't have to watch this particular ceiling longer than a couple of days, he wondered how many days he would stay immobile on some bed, counting the tiles... how many days, how many dozens of days... and how many nights, not even his mate or the tabby being close.  
Alone...  just he and his spine.  
Ray's body tried to sigh deep but the twang of pain shot through it and Ray had to try to control his breathing. Anyway to have a couple of broken ribs was pretty much normal, he knew they would heal in their due time. But the idea of a possible paralysis... it was more than Ray could bear. Day after day after night after night being tied to a bed or a wheelchair... and everything else coming with it, like the image of Bodie watching the catheter reminded him. They would probably fix some permanent thingie onto him for that of course, but still...  Jesus... no jogging, no riding, no pub-nights, no work, no sex, no standing in a shower, no... nothing...    
Ray gasped and unconsciously made fists. He realised it only when he felt Bodie's grip of his wrist get firmer and his mate's breathing go uneven on the verge of waking up. Ray didn't want to wake up Bodie, hell the man deserved his rest, so he tried to relax and control his anxiety. But it wasn't easy, not with all those images he had in his mind... and the pity. Sorry looks, embarassment, awkwardness, whispers, stiff smiles...  that might be even worse than pain... and how long would it take? How long before he would learn to live with it... or before he would snuff it?  
Ray tore his thoughts off the worst. He tried to make his toes move but didn't have a clue if anything happened under the quilt. He had felt Bodie's pinches though, so maybe it wasn't quite hopeless... Anyway, Ray knew he would have to be operated. He knew enough to realise something was broken, something was pressing his spine, and there wouldn't be any hope of walking again unless that something was dealt with. But he also knew there was a risk of it going wrong... and even if the operation succeeded, he would still face maybe months of pains and physiotherapy, and nobody could still guarantee if he would ever be able to return to the squad. Ever. If he ever would have Bodie at his side again, bugging, bantering, badgering... Surely Bodie would be given a new partner right after his return to service, maybe Murphy... or one of the new recruits, those poor sods wouldn't have an idea what would be waiting for them... or then, there could be someone like Bodie himself, someone who could take the stupid jokes, who would be tough enough in Bodie's opinion, not taking all the worries in the world on his shoulders, hell someone Bodie would feel at home with and enjoy working with...  
And oddly enough, that thought brought back the tension and anxiety and Ray didn't even realise he had moved before he heard Bodie's sleepy ”Yer alright, Ray?”  
”Yeah I'm allright, it was just a... nothing. Go to sleep.”  
”Back?”  
Ray sighed. ”No. It's ok. Don't worry. Just sleep.”  
Bodie watched his mate's tense face and understood. ”Sunshine... get some sleep you too. Let your head get empty for a while.”  
”Dunno if I can,” Ray confessed.  
”Yeah, you have all the time too many ideas bouncing around in that curly head of yours,” Bodie tried to joke.  
But that made Ray remember his previous thoughts and he closed his eyes, angry... at himself, or at Bodie?  
Sleepyness had vanished from Bodie when he followed the expressions on his mate's face and the kitty woke up he too hearing them talk.  
Ray missed the momentary sadness in the blue eyes. ”Tell me,” said Bodie simply.  
Ray wanted to scream at him, tell him to shut up and sod off. ”No... I'm fine. Just you sleep. Please.”    
Bodie took a deep breath. ”Ray... tell me.... please.”  
The tabby brushed his head against Bodie's chin, and then went to Ray, carefully snuggling under Ray's arm.  
Bodie's hand followed the kitten up Ray's arm. ”Ray, I know I said something stupid again. Sorry. But please tell me.”  
Ray didn't know what it was that got to him, Bodie's quiet voice, the warmth of his hand on his arm, or the tiny kitten who gently washed his skin. Ray swallowed. ”Just... stupid thoughts. Nothing else, don't worry.”  
Bodie was quiet for a moment. ”You can hardly expect me to not worry” he stated softly. Yeah Ray, you should know that by now,. But he couldn't force Ray talk if the man didn't want to...  So Bodie moved his pillow a little closer and gingerly moved himself too. He noticed Ray watch him. ”Well, when the fire dies it may get cooler here again. You can have a part of my quilt too if it gets too cold.”  
And once again Ray was thrown off balance by his mate. ”Bodie... how can you be like that?”  
”Like what?” Bodie was puzzled.  
”Like... like you are, dammit...” Ray felt he was choking. ”Like you were a bloody nurse or something...”  
Bodie knew he had to tread carefully. ”Well... I have sometimes been a nurse. Or not, really, quite, but I have needed to take care of wounded guys and such in the bushes, and I've been taught how to do some things.” And none of those guys have been my mate like you are, Doyle. But I don't ever dare to tell you that. At least not now when you would take it as pity. ”Why does it bother you?”  
”It makes me feel... so helpless. You're my mate, bloody hell, you're not supposed to be my friggin' nurse!”  
”Ray... stop that, right now. ” Bodie did sound genuinely angry. ”Ok I may be your nurse at the moment, but bloody hell I'm not going to stop that only because it makes you think of what may happen! What I think of, what is the only bloody thing I think of, is to keep you as comfortable and in as good condition as I ever can, so that you would have the best possible chance to get on your feet again!”    
Ray felt mute.  
Bodie sighed and lowered himself down on his pillow again as his angry burst had made his head pound again. He stroked Ray's arm slowly.  
They were silent for some time.  
”Bodie...”  
”Yeah?”  
”Thanks. For... everything you did today.”  
”Any time, mate.  Any time.”  
”And thanks to you too, kittie.” Ray managed to stroke the tabby under his arm and the kitty turned purring on his back. ”You know, Bodie... maybe I could have me a cat for company if... if things turn bad in the end.” And then he just couldn't keep his thoughts inside, and haltingly told Bodie everything from counting the tiles to Bodie's future partner. Bodie listened to him in silence, and the kitty continued cleaning Ray, purring softly.  
”Ray... nothing bad is going to happen tonight. We only are here in the house, safe, and we have fireplace and that little rascal for a cat as company. Let's worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes. Okay? We can talk more about all this tomorrow when there's more light around. But now you too need to sleep. I'm not going to kiss you goodnight but the little guy seems to be more than enthusiastic doing that...”  
Ray, who had got the biggest weight off his chest, felt suddenly weary. ”Okay will try... by the way, shouldn't we come up with a name for the kitty?”  
And again Bodie managed to surprise his mate. ”I've done that already... Georgie.” Seeing his mate's stunned face Bodie couldn't help grinning. ”At least he won't turn out The Cow...”    
Ray was so tired he started giggling despite his hurting ribs, and the sound made his mate laugh out loud too. And Georgie the Cat watched his lads embarassed, not being sure what this quake meant.  
”Come on Ray, calm down, Georgie can't sleep 'cause you make him jump,” grinning Bodie tried to make his mate settle down.  
”Sorry Georgie... sorry mate...”  
Both Ray and Bodie stroked the kitty until he started to purr again, and after a few minutes drowsy Ray noticed Bodie had fallen asleep his hand on his upper arm. Georgie moved carefully and came to brush his head against Ray's face in most calming and soothing manner before returning under Ray's arm.  
Bodie opened his lids a few minutes later and gently pulled Ray's quilt higher up so that it covered his mate's chest as well as little Georgie. The sight made Bodie smile and he calmly put his hand back on Ray's arm. Tomorrow was tomorrow but now he could let go.  
He was asleep just as soon as he closed his eyes.  
  
  
  
Chapter 13  
  
Beeping pulled Ray out of his uneasy slumber. When he tried automatically stretch to quieten the alarm, the pain reminded him almost instantly where and why he was.  
Georgie's head was turning like owl's when he tried to figure out what that strange noise was, and his eyes were huge in the dimly lit room.  
”Relax, mate, it's only an alarm-clock... no worries... ” Ray turned his attention to Bodie. ”Bodie... wake up.” Ray called his mate's name again and his pulse quickened when there was no response. ”Bodie, wake up, bloody hell!” Ray, wincing, pulled his hand off Bodie's grip to nudge the man, and only that move made his partner stir.  
”... Ray?”  
”Chrissake Bodie, you almost scared me out of me wits!”  
Bodie still didn't look quite alert and Ray couldn't brush his worry away until he saw his mate yawn widely and stretch his back in some kind of feline way. ”Scaaaa-re you?”  
”Yeah. You didn't wake to the alarm and I called you like three times and still you didn't wake up. Thought it was your head...” Ray swallowed, fright had made his mouth dry.  
Bodie thought to throw some joke but as none came into his mind when he saw his mate's face, he simply touched Ray's arm again. ”Was just miles away in sleep. Good stuff those painkillers. Got awake when you tried to rip me arm off. You sleep any?”  
”Some,” Ray admitted.  
He was feeling more uncomfortable, as if pain was gradually returning. And the fright had thrown any sleep away. ”Bodie... could you please give me a pill more?” Ray wished it would knock him out like it had done to Bodie. He wanted to escape his thoughts, his helplessness, just a little  longer...  
”Sure, mate. Hang on a sec...”  
Bodie was worried. He had given Ray double doze to begin with and it was only a few hours ago and he knew Ray wasn't wimpy when it came to pain. But maybe Ray would made it to the morning if he got a pill more. So Bodie forced himself from under the warm quilt and got on his knees to get the mug and pill from the table close to him. ”Take this one now, and I'll give you more, and the other stuff, in the morning. Okay?”  
”Okay,” replied Ray quietly.  
Bodie served the water and the pill, and put then the mug on the floor. Georgie watched the lads  and Bodie just couldn't help giving him light rub on cheek. ”You might drink too, little beast.” Bodie took Georgie's cup on mattress, placing it very carefully so that it wouldn't spill. Tiny tabby didn't hesitate this time, but licked the drops of water almost greedily from Bodie's finger, still not yet figuring out the cup.  
Ray followed the procedure and even in the dim light saw the softness in his mate's eyes. Nobody would EVER believe this at the HQ... ever. Bodie the bad-ass tending to a kitty...  
Finally Georgie took hold on Bodie's finger with his paws and started to gnaw at it. ”Oi, enough! Play with Ray's fingers, little maniac you.” Bodie put the tabby under Ray's arm again and put the cup away.  
Georgie tried his incisors to Ray's arm but as the bite caused first Ray twitch involuntary and then groan of the pain the sudden small movement caused, worried tabby immediately started to lick the spot and purr apologetically already before Bodie had time to say anything.  
”You all right, mate? That little rat... did he bite you?”  
”No I just got startled more than anything... just moved a bit sudden, no worries... ”  
Bodie watched Ray's shallow breathing. ”Try to relax a little, if you can. The new pill will start helping soon. You have probably also pulled muscles. You cold?”  
”No, not yet, the quilt is warm. And the ember. It's easier to sleep when it's not too hot anyway.” ”Right,” admitted Bodie and started to settle down again. The temperature  was however clearly lower than before, so Bodie decided to play it safe and move himself again closer to Ray so that he could put a part of his own quilt over Ray.  
And that simple gesture pushed Ray over the limit.  
  
”Don't do that!”  
Bodie froze. Ray's voice was something between a hiss and a growl but Bodie had the feeling it was meant to be a shout and a whack. So... here it would come then. Bodie took a deep breath and pulled himself slowly a bit farther off from his mate, hoping to be far enough so that Ray wouldn't actually try to hit him and hurt himself even worse.  
Bodie was quiet for a moment and tried to study Ray's face in the dim light.  
”And stop staring at me!” another pained hiss.  
Bodie lowered his head on his pillow and tried to think. He tried the matter-of-factly manner. ”Ray, calm down -”  
”And don't bloody  tell me to calm fucking down!”  
Bodie's own temper almost flared but he closed his eyes for a moment and reminded himself how badly hurt Ray was. ”Ok mate, just tell me first what it is that I'm not supposed to do? Don't you want the extra quilt, or don't you want me closer?” Maybe it would be better to start from the little things. ”You know, it's getting cooler and it's still quite a few hours till morning, thought we both might use some extra warmth after a while. It was cold out there. And it's getting cooler here too. I don't know where they keep the firewood to get more of it in here tonight.”  
Bodie's quiet, even meek voice pierced Ray. And the sense he heard there. He just felt... like exploding... or like a vacuum collapsing inside.  It took a while before he could come up with any words  to Bodie. ”I... don't want the quilt”    
Bodie sighed. Better play along for a start. ”Right. I take it off then. Okay?”  
Ray tried to nod, but Bodie's efficient support hindered him.  
Georgie lifted his head when the other quilt came off, he had been so enjoyably curled into warmth. ”Sorry little guy, this has to get off now.” Bodie swallowed the rest of the sentence before it got out from his mouth. He needed to get his mate breathe easier and it looked like it would only happen if he got Ray to let out the pressure, but he didn't want to need to duck blows, or that Georgie would be within the range. ”Ray, do you want to get Georgie off? If he bothers you.” Ray didn't say a thing so Bodie thought to risk a little. ”I mean, you sound like you'd like to bash me and you know, Georgie is pretty much an innocent here.”  
”I won't hurt Georgie. He's... all right.”  
Bodie noticed that Ray didn't give the same promise about him.  The tiny tabby, sensing the tension, started to purr again, rubbing Ray's side gently and carefully, licking his arm.  
All that could be heard the next minutes were Ray's uneven breathing which he tried to control, and the little comfort-factory. Bodie held completely still, trying to give his partner a chance to gain control over himself again. He usually didn't try to shun from their conflicts, hell he did more than his share in merrily creating them, his short-tempered mate being such fun to set going ballistic, but this time they – neither of them – could afford an explosion. Bodie had no intention to allow any more bodily harm happen to his mate. He knew that Ray's was a slim chance only to get on his feet again – and even so much more slimmer to make it back to any kind of duty – but he would do anything in his power to spare Ray from worse damage - and his own mind, too.  
Finally Bodie saw Ray's hand trying to reach Georgie, and without thinking Bodie reached out and lifted the kitty on Ray's belly and pulled himself away again. Maybe the kitten would succeed in where he himself so miserably failed.  
Men's silence continued while the tiny feline enjoyed Ray's both hands touching him, and he pawed and gnawed Ray's fingers happily and purred until he got tired again and settled down. And once again, instinctively, Bodie took the kitty down and put him beside Ray's head where Georgie in a most peculiar way raised himself to watch straight into Ray's eyes for a moment, his little light paws against Ray's cheek, before he very carefully, very tenderly pushed his own nose and cheek against Ray's nose and lowered himself by Ray's ear slowly, as caressing, and happily dug himself  in the curls, as if humming softly right into Ray's ear.  
”What's he doing?” Ray couldn't help asking as he couldn't quite see.  
”He's layin' flat on his back and cleaning his paws, like some ancient posh hag on a sofa eating grapes in those old paintings.”  
Corner of Ray's mouth twitched. ”He's fun...”  
Bodie readily agreed to that.  
”Whaddya think, would they let me have 'im?” Ray asked all of a sudden. ”I mean... I can't have 'im in the hospital, but when they put me somewhere... it would be nice to have 'im for company...” Ray was quiet for a while. ”He would forget me before I'd be let out of the fucking hospital anyway.”  
Bodie heard the sadness in Ray's voice.  
”Oh he won't, I'll start using those long coats like that fella Columbo, and let Betty sew Georgie a big secret pocket there, and I'd bring him to do your pinching for me and I'd pinch the nurses who manage to escape your fingers. Guess that would be the equi-librium of terror I've heard talk about. Georgie can move at your place once you're allowed home.” Although Bodie had started his comment as a joke, he suddenly felt very serious about it.  
”Well yeah, you wouldn't need to come after that, would you?” Ray threw at him.  
Bodie instantly grabbed it and threw likewise angrily back ”Yeah I would.” He was quiet for a moment before continuing in more gentle way. ”Yeah I would need to come. Would need to see you get enough kicks on your arse to keep you moving.”  
”And what if I can't fucking get moving?”  
”Then you only need more and harder kicks,” Bodie stated calmly. ”Yeah ok, maybe you won't make it back to the Squad. But hell, with your head, there's so much you can do without your legs! You're not dum and you can do all sorts of things I couldn't even dream about... and maybe you could even teach me some. Because if you don't make it back to the Squad, I quit there too”.  
Despite his own frustration Ray was startled. ”Listen Bodie, I told you I don't blame you about what happened. There's no need to punish yourself or feel a martyr... Murph, Jax,  new recruits, you'd make a good team....”  
Bodie lifted his head from his pillow and glared at his mate. His form was very dark indeed to Ray's eye. ”I don't want any of them to be my partner. Murph is ok. Jax is ok. Any of the new ones can be ok. I don't care.” Bodie tried to focus on now sleeping little tabby to keep his voice stable and from shaking. ”It would take a lot of time to get used to any of them. I can get along with Jax and Murphy and they know a lot and can do a lot, but still... even with 'em, god knows if I could ever get anywhere close as good and efficient as with you.” And not to mention close, Bodie thought quietly. ”And with new ones... I just don't have the patience. I would probably either get 'em killed or kill 'em myself... ” He took a deep breath. ”If there's a chance you could make it back again, however small chance, I can wait to see if it happens. That's no problem. I just don't want to start learning another bloke...  We are a good team. The best, despite the Cow's bellowing. So he won't shut the door on you if there's any chance you could or wanted to come back.”  
Ray had listened to his partner and just couldn't resist quipping. ”You make it sound like our team is one of those marriages of convenience. No new partner 'cause you don't want to bother.”  
Bodie settled down on his back and looked somewhere at the ceiling. ”No new partner 'cause none of them would be my friend the way you are.”  
Ray saw his mate rub his face and eyes tiredly.  
”Could we please leave the rest of this to daylight?” Bodie still stared at the ceiling.  
”Yeah,” whispered Ray, oddly relieved. He had been a mate, partner, angelfish, sunshine, all sorts of things in bodie-vocabulary... not a friend, not like this.  
”You have many friends, don't you?” Ray asked quietly. ”From your old times?”  
Bodie was silent for quite some time. ”No.... not really.”  
Ray didn't push it any further as he got a feeling even this was never meant to be told to him.  Silence fell again.  
”Get some sleep, Bodie. And if your side gets cooler sooner you can have a bit of my quilt too.”    
Ray saw Bodie turn back towards him, as if questioning.  
”I'm sorry I was bitching,” Ray said quietly.  
”Never mind,” came the soft reply.  
An hour later Ray noticed that indeed two quilts were better than just one.     
  
Sound of wind brought Ray awake and for a moment he was still in the car, trapped into his seat. The cozy light of the lonely lamp brought him into reality and he managed to catch his breath. He felt the warmth of Georgie against his ear where the little kitten had snuggled cozily, and the weight of Bodie's hand again on his arm. It was a feeling Ray had hard time describing, on one hand embarassing, on the other... on the other, it kept him from freaking out. It was an anchor to hope and a barrier against loneliness.  
Ray wondered, if he ever would meet again that gentle, caring man that had emerged in front of his eyes this evening and night. He wondered, if he ever would be able to talk about this night with his mate, really talk. Oh he had known alright that the ex-mercenary was not totally cold-hearted, but still Ray had never had a clue of the existence of this man who now slept less than an arm's length from him, standing guard over his well-being even while sleeping.  
The air in the room was definitely cooler. Not cold, yet, but cooler. Ray gingerly pulled his quilt further up and the movement against his arm startled Bodie into awareness.  
”Sshhhh... just me, sorry, didn't mean to wake you. Just you go back asleep.”  
”Are you okay? Getting cold?” Bodie himself coughed as his throat was dry.  
”Nah, I'm fine, woke up to the wind  and thought to pull the quilt better. Nothing more serious than that. You tuck yourself in better too.”  
Without a word Bodie spread both their quilts, carefully tucking Ray's other side, before calmly moving his pillow right next to Ray's mattress, and practically almost snuggling against Ray's shoulder and side. Georgie, who woke up to the movement, was delighted to get both his mates so close and for a while wasn't able to decide which way to park himself to make the most of it, earning mild complaints from both men who still, eventually, both fell soon asleep again, comforted by their happy little friend who decided finally nest himself between the curly and the short-clipped heads so considerately close to one another.  
And no dream bothered Ray Doyle for a while.  
  
  
  
Chapter 14  
  
Bodie woke up a few hours later with a jerk. He was going to get late from work, surely... but what the hell was that fur in front of his eyes and who did the curls behind it belong to? A few quick heartbeats later Bodie recognized Ray and started to remember. He settled down again to avoid waking up his mate. Doyle would need all the sleep he could get now, the more the better. It would keep some of the pain away.  And the thoughts. Bodie would have to once again go through the medicines he had found to see if there was something strong enough to knock his mate out. He didn't like fiddling with the pills like this, 5 years ago he would have known exactly what to give but all the bloody new stuff... he hadn't needed to follow up and he was feeling insecure what the combined effects would be.  
Bodie hurt all around, muscles were getting stiff and he knew it would take quite some curses to get himself up. His head hurt too and it was kind of difficult to focus. Bloody concussion... Bodie surely wished from the bottom of his heart it was only that and not a worse fracture. He needed to be able to function... He would just have to. Ray was dependent on him. And even Georgie. None of them wouldn't get anything to eat if Bodie wasn't able to be on his feet. But that was a minor thing compared with keeping Ray comfortable and relatively painless, and immobile. Luckily his ribs hurt, that would to some degree prevent him from trying to toss and turn while sleeping. But maybe Bodie should try to find something to support and immobilize Ray with anyway.  
It was strange... the way he felt. He didn't know what had happened inside of him. Ray was the one person he felt totally comfortable with, despite them being chalk and cheese as Cowley used to say. Ray was the one person he cared most about, along with the old man. The Cow knew more things about him than any other living person, but Ray knew him. Ray knew him even when... even when he possibly couldn't know. Bodie couldn't phrase his thought any better.  
Watching his sleeping mate Bodie wondered what it was about Ray... Hell they had despised each other right from the start, both holding himself better and smarter than the other and hating each other's guts in not admitting inferiority, but at the same time they had given credit to each other's professional skills and found those complementing. And the longer they worked together and waded in the same shit, the more they had started to respect each other. Not that they would ever admit it out loud even now , after all these years – corner of Bodie's mouth twitched – unless someone else would try to put one of them down. And yeah, they had started to care about each other. They could throw each other with verbal ice-spikes all day long and shout at each other with bulging veins, but they cared.  
Actually, come to think of it, the worst rows they had had were when one or the other had put himself at more-than-usual risk, or done the opposite, allowed consideration his mate's safety interfere with efficiency in shootouts or fights. The first time it had happened, Ray refusing to shoot into the flat when Bodie had been at the window, Bodie still remembered how stunned he had been when he realised Ray had cared too much, to shoot at the Greek in case he would have missed and hit Bodie instead... all he had managed to get out of his mouth had been ”Since when did you miss?” Yeah, they would yell at each other about it, yet when the time came they would still do all they could for the mate. For the partner. For... friend.  
Ray had asked him if he had many friends. It had startled Bodie, the realization that for years he had let none other as close as Ray... for... well, ever. The Cow didn't count, although Bodie held the older man in great esteem and was genuinely fond of the wily bastard – not that he would ever admit that either – but the Cow wasn't a friend, he was their superior and his greatest loyalty was for CI5 and the Crown. Bodie understood that, although didn't always like it. Yet he was military man enough to accept the fact that often to achieve the goal of the mission you have to be ready to sacrifice men.  
Ray...  that was one man Bodie wouldn't be able to sacrifice. Risk, yes, but not sacrifice. But this time, bloody hell, this fight was one where Bodie wouldn't be able to take any blows for his friend. Ray would need to suffer it all and there was nothing Bodie could do about that... nothing else than be there for his mate and help him cope with the outcome, whatever that may be. More than anything, Bodie feared Ray might try to push him away again, to avoid showing weakness. If Ray would succeed there, Bodie didn't know what he could do. He simply didn't want to lose Ray from his life, not that way...    
If only he could accept that I care, thought Bodie in his misery. I wouldn't if I was him. And I wouldn't much fucking care if he was like me. But I just bloody care. He's the only human I trust. If he only dared to trust me...  
Bodie searched Ray's hand under the quilt and took it in his. Another thing he could never admit to anyone. And he wished somewhere deep that the sleeping man would accept his hand without those wake doubts.  
Ray did. And Bodie was able to drift back to sleep, his hand held by Ray's fingers.  
  
  
  
Chapter 15  
  
Such was their fatigue that when Ray woke up a couple of hours later, he still held his sleeping mate's hand. Pain was lurking just behind the corner, and he desperately would have wanted to shift his position as he had already been immobile for hours. He didn't see the clock and wondered what time it was, and whether he should wake up his partner or let him sleep. He didn't know how Bodie's hand had got into his, it felt... strange... special.  
Ray was sorry he wasn't able to turn his head to look at his partner, whose warmth and closeness had kept him comfortable during the night. It would have been a rare chance to behold the private person that was Bodie, at an unguarded moment. After what Ray had witnessed only hours ago, he wondered how many layers that man had... man he had thought he knew so well.  
Ray tried to decide. He hated to wake up his partner, but if he didn't get more medicine pretty soon, the effect might be lost for quite some time. He could tolerate pain, hell he had made it to the cottage, but he didn't want to cause more worry to his mate. Bodie would need to be confident enough to start looking around once there would be daylight, and to try and get them help if he himself was in good enough condition.  
But he could wait for a few minutes more... it felt nice, to have Bodie so close. Especially after their short talk. To know... that he wouldn't be totally alone. It had been the worst thought, to lose everything... not only his job, but also his sense of belonging... Although Ray did have some sort of family, and a few good old mates he was in contact with every now and then, his only existing truly meaningful human relationships... no. After Jen screamed the last time after him in the hotel, THE only existing truly meaningful human relationship was to this deadly dangerous ex para now sleeping like a baby almost against his shoulder.  
Actually, thinking of it... what ever had happened with other people; girls not tolerating his working hours and being ever-on-duty no matter how ”off” it should have been, what ever troubles at work, how bad all his suspicions and doubts and anger after ops gone from bad to worse, after all the terrible mistakes or what he had believed to be mistakes, fallouts with Mr Cowley, and the disaster with Ann... there was one person who had never left him, walked out from him, not even when Ray himself had told him to go to hell and stay there.  
He hadn't ever really paid attention to it. It just felt... natural. To have Bodie, not always by his side, but always ready to get there if there was need, even when they had practically had a fistfight or yelled at each other with crimson faces, or sulked after some fallout. He remembered so well the incident when he really hit Bodie and made the man collapse on a sofa, and that quiet, so-terrifyingly-composed Feel any better? when the partner had wiped blood off a smashed lip. Anyone else Ray knew, would have hit him back – and hit hard. No doubt Bodie wanted to, too, but somehow he had restrained himself... Oh he had seen cold murder in Bodie's eyes, many times, and he knew that he didn't even want to know all his mate had been (maybe still was) capable of doing before accepting the reins of the old Scot...  but Ray had never needed to doubt Bodie's loyalty. Forced loyalty at first yes, Ray couldn't really blame Bodie for reluctance to co-operate with someone whose first thought about him was ”a murderous bastard” or something of the sort. But from there it had first evolved into their version of esprit de corps, or a ”mobile ghetto” as Bodie had put it, until Ray had to his astonishment realised he held Bodie as his friend.  
It was easy to work with Bodie... excluding all those infuriating quirks that made Ray want to scream at times... at least it was easy to operate with Bodie, whether on duty or at leisure. They already knew each other so well, knew how the other one would react and function, their actions and reactions being automations, smallest hints and gestures being as shouted commands... as if they were able to read each other's minds. Ray knew that Bodie, the simple existence of him, had been a tough cookie for some girls who had realised they had no chance of really pushing in between the two, or between Ray and his work. Well most of the time it was the same thing... Maybe it was same for Bodie and his girls... not all of them had taken too kindly to Ray walking straight into their bedrooms to collect his mate to some sudden tip-off. But a simple fact was that no-one else than someone with first hand experience of their line of work could ever understand or accept all it brought with it. He had thought Ann would... but at the end of the day, it was Bodie who had come to his aid in picking up the pieces.  
They really had seen the worst about each other over the years... and accepted it. Life was as it was. They were as they were. But would Bodie really be able to accept his immobility if there was no way of recovery, would he still stay loyal? Wrong question maybe... Bodie would stay loyal, but would he stay a friend out of his free will and not only out of sense of duty?  
Ray felt Bodie stir and felt his warmth even closer. Ray just couldn't help it, his hand squeezed Bodie's and he more sensed than saw his mate waking up quietly. But Bodie didn't pull his hand away – and neither did Ray.  
”You all right?” asked Ray softly.  
”Yeah” came husky reply. ”You wake up long?”  
”A few minutes only. D'ya mind giving me another pill?”  
Bodie got worried. ”Pains again?”  
Ray had to admit it was crawling in. ”Not so bad yet though, it did let me sleep. But maybe it's better to try and keep the worse edge away if there only are enough of those,” and as Bodie's frowning face and bruised shoulder came better in view, Ray added ”AND you'd better have the stuff yourself too.”  
”Maybe not that bad an idea” admitted Bodie and grunting started to work himself up from the mattress. As he had guessed, it was tedious and painful as it felt like his creaking joints and moaning muscles had hard time taking any orders.  
Georgie had naturally woken up too and when he noticed Bodie planned to get up he ran to the door. Bodie sighed but thought he might as well go to kitchen and make Ray a sandwich to go with the Dexa. He first gave Ray the painkiller with water, which his mate readily accepted, and after a moment of hesitation took one himself too before heading to the door where Georgie waited nervously. Cold air rushed in the already cooler cottage when Georgie rushed out and Bodie could see a hint of dawn.  
”Will make you a sandwitch and you take the other pills with it, ok?” Bodie peeked in the living-room before disappearing in the kitchen.  
He quickly washed his hands and made a couple of sandwiches, and when he was ready he already heard tiny meows behind the door and went to let the tiny tabby in, and they both hurried into the warmth under the quilts. Georgie got there first as he didn't need to take tablets or place a napkin over Ray's chest so when Bodie finally got the chance to push his legs into warmth, he already heard content purr and soon curious nose emerged to examine if there was something for him too. Ray pushed the other sandwich to Bodie who was more than ready to consume it, and Ray couldn't help smiling when he saw Bodie share the cheese with Georgie, and once again offer the tiny feline water from his fingertip.  
Bodie noticed the smile and frowned a bit. ”What's so funny?”  
As Ray didn't want to lose that strange gentle man from his sight quite yet, he used half of the truth. ”Georgie. It's good to have him around.”  
Bodie was quiet for a while. ”Yeah... he's kind of sweet. Helpless little bugger.”  
Sweet? Did Ray actually hear Bodie say that word? Ray noticed Bodie put the water away again when Georgie started to paw at his fingers, and then he took off Ray's napkin.  
”Ray... do you mind if we rest a little longer? You could have a nap again if you only can.”  
Ray noticed Bodie settle on his back and watch the ceiling again. ”Sure, didn't mean to go jogging yet.”  
Bodie glanced at his mate. Ray had shut his eyes and there was tension on his face. Pain or fear? wondered Bodie. ”Ray... is there anything I can do?”  
Ray stayed quiet for a while and let out a shallow sigh. ”No... not really. Unless...” Bodie waited. ”... it's cool, would you mind being just a little closer?”  
Bodie moved closer without a word. And without a word, Ray's hand searched his.  
”I'm so fucking scared” Bodie hardly heard the quiet confession. ”Scared of losing everything.” Bodie lifted Georgie on Ray's stomach again and then took Ray's hand, placing them both on Ray's tummy under the quilt so that his mate was in some kind of half-embrace. ”You have what it takes to deal with it, mate” said Bodie quietly. ”And me and Georgie, we'll be there. All the way, until you're on your feet again, one way or another.” Georgie purred his consent. ”I mean, if you let us.” There was a long silence. Then Bodie felt Ray squeeze his hand, very tight.  
Very tight.  
  
  
  
Chapter 16  
  
The elderly Scot was waiting for the dawn, still hours away. Sleep had fled, as it had done so often...  The events of the past days bothered him, as did the memory of dead Ferguson and almost unrecognizable, battered Kennedy on the stretchers, and stunned faces of Connor and Greer who were the permanent partners – who had been the permanent partners of those two... Neither of the two were married, thank God, and didn't go out with any regular, but Ferguson's parents were still alive, in Inverness, and conscience didn't allow anyone else be sent to tell them... oh yes, George Cowley did still have conscience.  
He wondered briefly if it was better to take painkillers or open the bottle of whisky he had left on his table. He longed for numbness... both to his bad leg and to his mind.  
It never got any easier, to be the bearer of bad news, bird of ill omen... Especially when you could see that the lost life belonged to someone who had been loved and appreciated, like Ferguson clearly had been. There was no consolation to give, only empty phrases... as if dying for Queen and Country would hurt any less. Bollocks. But at least he would honour his men, his lads, and as he was the one to send them out, he also would carry the consequences and face the tears and wavering voices, bursts of grief and occasional hatred...  
Sometimes he too hated, hated his work, hated the world he lived in which made his work necessary... sometimes, not even a bigger picture could help him. Oh yes, he knew that catching those bastards had saved lives and healths of maybe dozens of totally innocent civilians, not to mention government property, but those would-be victims were still a faceless mass, while the bloodied faces of Kennedy and Ferguson were in his mind clear as photographs.  
  
He would need both the pills and the whisky.  
  
But he could use the hate as he had done this evening when he had got back from Inverness. Oh he could use it so well, whipping the men around him work hard and still harder, and peeling off answers in the interrogation rooms... Aye he could have used Doyle and Bodie there today too, but as Murphy had told him this assignment had cost them their girlfriends, he had decided to let them go get their heads full and forget this world of shite for a day or two. Had done well, those two, during the hunt, and saved some young local coppers when things started to fall apart, aye they had done well... as they most of the time did. Damned hecklers and troublemakers they were alright, sometimes more than a handful, but even if they often were hard to handle together, separated they became practically uncontrollable as he had seen all too many times.  
It was a strangest kind of hunch, premonition, that had made him to make a team of those two. Och he knew they had detested each other in the beginning, both had in their turns come in his office to demand re-teaming, but he had kept his head, and when weeks turned into months and months into years, he had seen the gradual changes and now he knew he had a team that maybe would never be surpassed, or even equalled in CI5...  his true Bisto Kids. Two cocky arrogant bastards to begin with, both in their own ways ruthless and violent, extremely skilful fighters, yet they had unknowingly filed and hacked away the worst extremes from each other; the moody and volatile, yet painstakingly fair ex-copper, and the cool, calm and almost emotionally frigid ex-mercenary. When they worked together they were a force to reckon, a real unit... and Bodie had a calming and soothing influence on Doyle, while Doyle had managed to make Bodie accept some moral values.  
Their chief emptied his glass in the dark room, and wondered, och how many times he had wondered and how many times he still would, if those two had ever paid attention to the change in themselves when they were together. They had grown together... and in their case, 1 + 1 was much more than 2. He only wished that the two would be able to keep each other alive long enough that he might manage to persuade them to start to teach, train and look after a new generation of agents when they would inevitably some day need to leave the streets. Oh what a dynamo those two could be... now as he finally could be certain they would not be a disaster. At least relatively certain. Maybe.  
George Cowley sighed, remembering those impossible situations the two hellions had put him into, and then chuckled remembering some of those countless cheeky quips and shameless puns they had offered... and he also remembered what he himself had made them go through and sighed again... aye, good lads. Hardy, intelligent both in their own distinct ways, and fiercely loyal if their loyalty was earned. Not liked by most in CI5, feared and envied also amongst their own being such difficult men, but good, damned good they were. And God willing, if they were given time enough to get some more education, and most importantly: heal each other even more so that they would start to show their better sides to the people around them and not only to each other, they would be the men to whom George Cowley could trust his child, CI5, with Jax and Murphy as their wingmen.  
If they were given time... The chief of the CI5 stood in front of the window, resting his forehead against the cold glass, tired to death... he could hear the wind in still near darkness and could not brush off his restlessness. Anxiety.  
He stood there hours waiting for light. Any light.  
  
  
  
Chapter 17  
  
Ray was mute. All the emotions and words stumbled upon each other so that nothing got out, no sound of intellect. Fear and relief fought each other, and only the touch of those two living creatures kept him anchored. He had been close to death before, he had been injured before, if it was only death or pain he could face it... but to lose his life while he still was breathing, that was something he hadn't been prepared to. To be helpless, to be in mercy of others for not only some time of recuperation, but maybe for the rest of his life... To be useless.  
To be nothing.  
He gasped, on the verge of shattering to pieces. He wanted... he wanted to be left alone. That was it, he wanted to be left alone. Nobody would bloody hell see him break. Not him.  
”Go” he managed to grunt, pushing Bodie's hand away. It was hard to breathe. But his hand was again in a warm grip. ”Go. Bodie... leave me alone.” He felt the hand hesitate, and then slowly let go.  
He couldn't see a thing, his eyes were burning so he squeezed them shut, using all his willpower to breathe in and out, and try to hold on to... to what? Pride? Dignity? Self-respect? His gasp for breath was a wail.  
Two pairs of eyes were fixed to him in total silence, both knowing they were not wanted, yet unwilling to leave their partner. But the animal instinct was not burdened by human doubts. The tiny tabby understood his companion hurt, and this hurt, great pain came from somewhere very deep, and it could make his companion go away to hide... leave his group, vanish. So step by step, letting out short, frightened meows, almost like muted cries, the tabby most carefully lowered himself on man's arm to avoid the ribs, and slowly crept  by his mate, calling him as he had in vain called his mother, trying to reach into the hurt, to maintain the bond, to not be left alone again. He was scared to approach the man, but that fear of being clawed or bitten was overcome by fear of being  left again. And shaky, horrified kitten sneaked beside the man's chin, pleading, calling, until he finally turned his gaze to the other man to ask for reassurance.  
That look from the eyes of wordless little kitten was like a cry, and it drilled into the quiet man, hurting, resonating with his own feelings. Bodie swallowed and turned away. He would be hated, yeah, either by Ray or by himself. Not many choices to pick from.  
After a long moment his voice made it to Ray's consciousness. ”Sorry mate. I can't. I just can't.” And Ray felt warmth come back, closer, until he realised he was held gently. ”I can't go.” The quiet whisper swept away the rage he tried to muster. ”You see, Doyle, Georgie and me... we... shit...” Ray heard Bodie swallow and clear his throat. ”We need you. I need you.”  
And Bodie's head was right next to Ray's. ”Guess I need you more than you've ever needed me. Don't close the door on me, Ray. We're a team. We've seen all shit. I... I can't make this undone, Ray, but don't close the door on me. I'm your mate. And you're the best mate I've ever had... best friend.”  
In silence they felt Georgie shift slightly between their heads. He had stopped his heartbreaking calls and was now silently and tensely waiting what would happen with his giant companions who were now so close. His instincts told him to be ready to run for safety... and suddenly he felt Ray's body tense.  
  
It took a while before Ray was able to speak again. Georgie was trying to dry his cheek, and Ray was thankful the little kitten was blocking Bodie's sight to his tear-marked face. Not that it would make any difference anymore, and he just was too tired and exhausted to really care. Bodie was warm and steadfast against his side. Ray was so tired... more tired than ever before. He only wanted to shut his eyes and shut this day and the entire world out.  
Bodie listened to Ray's silence. It had been terrifying to witness his mate breaking down...  and Ray would probably hate him for it. But Bodie hadn't flinched. And somehow he knew that this probably had been the worst. Yes there would still come hard times for his curly-haired mate, when fear and frustration would sweep over him. And there would come times when Ray tried to push Bodie away, but yet Bodie was sure that none of those would be as hard to tackle than what had just passed – as if Ray had collapsed inside. And all that Bodie could do was to hold him.  
And Bodie understood Ray. He knew his mate well enough to know that immobility was for Ray even worse thing to bear than threat of dying. Yet somehow Bodie would have to find the way to get his mate fighting again, if not otherwise, then really kicking Ray's arse. That was the one thing he was really good at: irritating Ray. Once they would be out of this cottage, and Ray would be safe in hospital, Bodie would do all in his power to get his mate's eyes flash again. But he would have to be careful so that it wouldn't backfire.  
Georgie had now done all he could dealing with the salty cheek and moved back. Bodie noticed that Ray looked tired and he pulled the quilt up again. ”Have a nap, mate. A bit more sleep will do us both good. I wake you up at 8 for breakfast if I'm awake myself. OK?”  
” 'kay” came quiet reply. Bodie settled himself comfortably next to his mate, earning purr from Georgie who now was convinced nobody would get clawed or vanish, and was able to relax again in the warmth of his two companions. Both men managed to doze off in that comforting sound.  
  
  
  
Chapter 18  
  
Ray woke up to the quiet clattering coming from the kitchen. He didn't want to wake up really but a  crash and a curse made his heart jump and shook sleep from him – and Georgie who dashed beside him, eyes huge and tail like bad bottle brush. ”Bodie? What the hell was that?”  
To Ray's immense relief, black-haired head peeked in. ”Sorry mate, the kettle slipped. Luckily it was only water. Did that wake you up?”  
”Thank god I was awake already, would have got a freakin' heartattack...”  
”Just a sec, I only dry the table a little. We'll get breakfast soon.”  
A moment later Bodie appeared to sight and Ray winced seeing the tube and cans. Without a word the lethal ex para got gingerly himself down on his knees, and started to clean his mate gently, almost tenderly, with the towels and warm water he had managed to bring beside Ray's mattress without waking Ray. This time he was more thorough, cleaning every square inch of bare skin he could reach without moving his partner, and wiping it dry immediately. He was inspecting his mate at the same time, and noticed a tender spot on the left side of Ray's head, almost entirely covered with curls. ”This hurt?”  
”Just a bit, hardly noticed it with everything else...”  
”Well this probably caused you to knock out.” Bodie felt relieved, finding the answer why Ray had ended face in water without waking up, and so he totally missed embarassment Ray felt for his mate surveying so intently face that would for hours bear marks of tears.  
All the other injuries were pretty much the same under Bodie's gently probing hands, although the bruises had started to gain colour. Bodie didn't much want to think what his own skin must look like, he had managed to avoid looking at the mirror in the bathroom.  
Finally he was happy with the cleaning he had managed to perform, along with quick but thorough massage of Ray's thighs and legs to stimulate the circulation, and to his amusement Bodie noticed Georgie vigorously trying to groom Ray's stubble along the chin. He was glad for that distraction as Ray wouldn't certainly like what he needed to do next...  
And Ray definitely didn't. Somehow, though, the humiliation felt a little less than it had felt the previous evening. Anyway it was nothing compared with what had happened before he fell asleep the last time... oh chrissake... and that cat... Ray swallowed, his eyes burning again. Bloody fucking falling apart. He wouldn't be able to work with Bodie, ever again. Not even if he would make it back to squad.  
He heard Bodie's ”right, here goes...” and flinched involuntarily, next gentle cleaning touch not bringing much comfort.  
Ray hadn't been able to watch his partner the whole time, and had stayed silent, and it wasnt' that hard for Bodie to guess why. Bodie gnawed his lip until twang of pain reminded him it had already been bitten to bleed, and tried to decide if he should talk with Ray now, or wait for a better moment. Scent of tea made him decide to leave it at least for a moment... so he gathered his gear and took it to bathroom, emptied and flushed the cans and washed his hands thoroughly before moving to kitchen where almost everything was neatly ready and even the ancient looking toaster behaved and accepted the slices of bread, and Bodie burned his fingers snatching the first bits of toast after he had loaded the tray to go to living-room. He took the second set when he returned to get Georgie's plate, but returning to the living-room he saw that his mate hadn't even touched the food.  
Bodie sighed. He had a hunch that he wouldn't get anywhere by coaxing. ”Right, mate. You may not have appetite but still you have to eat. I won't have any fancy gastric side-effects of those pills if you take them to empty stomach. This is the situation now: Either you eat at least your toast, and the egg, and drink your juice, or then I stuff them into you with me little hands. Your choice and you have one minute to decide.”  
The glare that met Ray's eyes was so grim that in his exhaustion Ray was not able to resist but silently accepted the offered piece of toast in his hand.  
For once in his life, Bodie had to force himself to swallow his breakfast, to make his mate follow his example. And when the last drops of juice had disappeared through the straw, Bodie managed to suppress the need to scruff those unruly curls. Oh god... this would be the longest day ever in his life. Ever.  
And even worse for Ray.  
  
Ray listened to his mate moving about, do the dishes, lit the fire with the last pieces of wood, move their things, check their clothes and spread the moist ones to dry... tidy man he was, Bodie, and seemingly didn't want to upset the owner of the cottage. And now he even appeared with a broom, chrissake...  
”Oh dammit, no use swiping the floor before I get more wood in here”.  
Ray looked up to the man towering beside the mattress. Half-naked, bruised, scraped, scarred, one of the most feared men... maybe THE most feared after Cowley himself – well all right, and Mackin - in the whole CI5, broom in one hand, dust pan in the other, looking awfully annoyed... suddenly the sheer absurdity of that picture came through to Ray, and he couldn't suppress a chuckle. Pained and painful chuckle, but chuckle nevertheless.  
Bodie looked down on him and put hands on his hips. ”Sir it ain't nice ter laugh if I've forgotten me lil apron!”  
Ray cracked. ”Bodie don't do that...” the rest vanished into broken, halting, spasmic laughter. And a moment later neither of them knew if it was laughter or cry, Ray hand on his eyes, tears streaming down his face, barely able to breathe as it hurt like hell. A few minutes later he started to gain control over his breathing, soothed by a hand wiping his brow and soft hushing sound. ”You're a bloody moron, Bodie.”  
Wiping didn't stop. ”Sorry mate, just wanted to give you a smile. Wasn't thinking. Bloody hell, your chest must be in fire... sorry...”  
Ray was quiet for a while apart from the sobs. ”It wasn't the pain... dunno what happened, must have broken me wit too. Me nerve.” He heard Bodie sigh.  
”I know what it is. You should know that too, from your copper times if not from else. You've seen accidents. You're in shock, that's what it is. Plain and simple. Body and mind don't always take that at the same time. There's nothing wrong with your wit or nerve otherwise. It's just the shock.”  
Ray frowned. ”Why not you then?” he managed to sound accusing. Still Bodie didn't stop the caressing movement.  
”Well first, I wasn't hurt even close as bad. Besides when I woke up yesterday, I had to move quick and I guess that fiddling with you kept me focused. And here the pills knocked me out for most of the night. Who knows what happens when we get out from here then.” Actually, Bodie didn't definitely want to know.  
”And it's back to fiddling, mate. I may need help in getting dressed, have to go out and search for more firewood.” He started to get on his feet again, stopped and looked down at his mate. ”Listen Ray... you're the only one tough enough to be my partner. And the only one who can really take me. And the only one I trust. So for once in your life, please have some trust in me, will ya?” And although all his instincts told him to turn away, or at least try and make a joke, he stayed still and for once in his life, allowed someone to see inside of him.  
  
Ray looked at the man kneeling beside him. He was feeling baffled... this was no Bodie. ”I trust you... you know that. Wouldn't work with you if I didn't” Ray finally said, frowning.  
”That's not what I mean!” Bodie sounded exasperated.  
”Whaddya mean then?” Ray felt tired and frustrated, and oddly, intimidated.  
Bodie was silent before he let out a deep sigh. ”Just... trust. Trust me. Me as I am.”  
Again there was silence and Ray tried to read that face and posture with all the experience his years in police had given him – still he remained puzzled.  
In the meantime a tiny face peeked out from under the quilt where Georgie had snuggled after his breakfast. The strange episode had frightened him some because he recognized the pain involved in the spasms and he didn't want to get bitten, but now things seemed to have settled down again. Tiny tabby felt that he could use some fluids again. And for him it was the most natural thing to go to the one that had bled, and ask for attention by gently pawing the feeding finger of the hand resting on thigh, and when the hand moved to stroke his chin, tug and lick it.  
Ray saw Bodie look down at  the little feline, and realised that the smile, genuine warm smile on that bruised face was born from some deep sadness. Hand capable of crushing the little animal in an instant, caressed the unproportional ears, fine underjaw, rubbed the thin cheeks, between the eyes... most gently and tenderly, and Georgie enjoyed the strength and touch, pushing his head deeper into the grip of the hand.  
”You've got it right, Georgie... yeah you're the one who's got it right.”  
Ray saw Bodie swallow before lifting the kitten in his hand and against his chest... and bow his head to receive a purring sweet push against his stubbled chin that made him close his eyes for a moment. Bodie looked again at the face of purring tabby, gave Ray a glance he failed to comprehend, and said to kitten in a very serious tone: ”Looks like I've got to leave it to you to explain”.    
And later, after quiet Bodie had eventually managed to get himself worked inside a pullover, trousers, boots and anorach, and left it to Ray to try and teach playful Georgie the art of drinking, Ray still wondered.  
  
  
  
Chapter 19  
  
PC Duncan Lennox had a headache. Aye he might have had it otherwise too, but surely the bottle of Cutty Sark he had shared with PC Baillie hadn't exactly worked as painkiller either. He wouldn't have even remembered the label if the empty bottle hadn't been the first thing his eye focused on when he finally managed to rip open his eyelids. It was peacefully resting on his pillow until movement made it roll down and fall on the floor.  
Duncan dragged himself sit up on his bed – after carefully checking it was his, his memories of the previous evening were quite messy and blurred to say the least. He wished he could have said the same of the day... the sickness that flushed over him, he wasn't quite sure if it was the hangover or the uninvited rush of memories. Dully he stared at his hands and started to wake up to the pain coming from the small burns around his body, and scrapes made by the shreds of concrete and timber he got on his face. None had known there were those petrol-cans and the fume spread in that messy labyrinth, none paid attention at first with all the racket going on and trying to get the captured agents pulled out, not before the black Londoner with funny name... Jax, who had been assessing the two agents they found, had suddenly jerked his head up and roared a warning. Christ what lungs that thin man had. But that Jax had saved their lives, and the sharp orders starting to spit out from the R/Ts right after the Alpha One had got explanation to the shouts.  Although it wasn't their own  Alpha One who gave those orders, and PC Duncan wondered briefly if Chief Constable Rutherford would even today enter same room with that old wolf of Criminal Intelligence 5, mr Cowley.  
Auld Robbie had been there, and had told all bout it to him and Baillie and all the others who had been taken to get patched... Rutherford had wanted them to advance still deeper into that damned  old warehouse despite the smell to capture the bastards, mister Cowley instead had wanted retreat, and when Rutherford had refused to order the men back, mister Cowley had shoved the plan of the building right into his face and asked him if he planned another Charge of the damned Light Brigade as the building was a bloody death-trap if there would be explosion or fire. And when Rutherford had bellowed he had been affirmed the highest authority in this operation, mister Cowley had told him he wouldn't allow perfectly good men get killed, not the police, and definitely not his own, had pushed the man away from radio, and a mere nod from him had been enough, that female agent Fischer – and actually, also Sergeant Douglas, good man, those two had stepped in between and pushed Rutherford and the radist farther off. Rutherford still had shouted about his authority while the old man had listened to reports making marks to the plan and ordering the retreat-routes, and mister Cowley had calmly told the bugger to either shut up or get out. As the man did neither, that old devil had merely given a glance over his glasses, said in a quiet tone ”Remove him” and this agent Fischer had whisked the Chief Constable away as if he was nothing more than some drunken hooligan at Pittodrie Stadium. All that had maybe taken less than two minutes, or so Robbie said, and thank God for that old man, they all had got closer to the doors...  
Suddenly sounds of firing pushed everything else from Duncan's mind, and the memory of hot lash on his cheek where a ricochet had passed his head like giving it a kiss. He had frozen... och, he still froze remembering. And then the flare... the explosion, och that too, but still, it was the flare, and the heat, noises in flames, the feeling of hell, and the kiss of death all in the same, and PC Baillie sitting against the wall, staring at his jammed sub. And all of a sudden, everywhere around them were flames, and the  bastards were still shooting at them, until those two got back, goddammit they had come back for them, him, Baillie... the old man had ordered counts on entrances, everybody else was out but them, and those two, Doyle and Bodie, had rushed back and practically dragged them out while covering them at the same time... Och, those two, it was as if they had been reading each other's minds, everything was so smooth between them, they barely talked, and that shooting, if Duncan only could learn to be half as good...  
Duncan sighed and forced himself into bathroom. Aye, right, no use thinking about that one, he'd be probably quietly knocked into penpushing, after yesterday... he didn't know what had come over him, he was usually just as cool as the next man, but he knew that if those two hadn't come, hadn't pulled him out, hadn't forced him move, he'd be dead, a charred lump they'd try to recognize from his teeth. And the thought of that, and the image, finally made young constable yield to nausea.  
  
An hour later he had managed to swallow some breakfast. Anyway, he knew that Baillie couldn't be in much better condition, that was a sort of comfort. Except that Baillie wouldn't need to drag his arse to the station today, he'd left his report already yesterday while Duncan had rushed to the hospital hearing the latest from the doctors who would operate his grandfater today. He'd arranged his own burns be re-checked by a nurse now in the morning, as he'd go meet Gramp the last time before the op. And he should try to reach the two agents again, Gramp had said it was allright the men were there, good men as they were, he'd like to meet them when they got back to city. Duncan had tried to phone before he set off with Baillie, och those pints, he should have skipped them... or the whisky afterwards... aye he should ask Gramp if the phone had been acting up.  
So. Gramp first, nurse second, finishing the cursed report third, and he would try to reach Bodie and Doyle again from the station. Maybe after that he would start feeling at least somewhat human.  
  
  
  
Chapter 20  
  
Ray tried in vain to make Georgie calm down. Tiny tabby looked a lot more energetic than the evening before, performing all kinds of stunts making funny excited noises, climbing on the sofa and walking – wobbly but proudly  – on the backrest before trying to get on the table and falling less than gracefully on his butt; and on the floor ripping the tissue-paper Bodie had left for Ray, burrowing under the quilt in a dash, attacking Ray's fingers, even daring to tap Ray's face with his paws in a mock-attack. That made Ray flinch again involuntarily, and the tabby immediately stopped and started to brush his head against Ray, and sneaked as carefully as ever possible to Ray's side, purring and licking the bare skin and stubble, relaxing only when Ray reached for him and stroked him telling it was all right. Georgie was still frighteningly thin, Ray was able to count the tiny bones under his fingertips after managing to coax the kitty climb on his abdomen where he was able to stroke with both hands. Georgie twisted and turned happily, now on his left side, now on his back, purring non-stop, pawing lazily, using his needle-like teeth and nails very gently and tenderly on Ray's hands and fingers, making sure it was every time followed by a lick to reassure the hurt giant mate it was all play.  
Ray couldn't help smiling and talking to the tiny feline. Georgie seemed to be listening to him and occasionally turned to watch him intently, as if really trying to understand what was being said. He seemed to particularly enjoy pushing his head into Ray's grip, each time rewarding the hand with loudest purr.  
”Hey, don't you know that I could crush your head, mate? And Bodie he's the real baddie, you have no idea... you really should be more careful in choosing your company, eh, tiger? You don't know what we can be like...” Georgie blinked at Ray with an expression Ray could have sworn to be a smile and pushed his head again into Ray's grip. ”I bet he's broken far thicker necks than yours, little chum... he's not the Mister Nice Guy you've seen... not me either... ” Sudden thought struck Ray and he stopped and stared at the kitten.  
What if he does know?  
What if the kitten does know exactly that we are capable of hurting, killing? That we are capable of killing HIM?  
That I could kill him this instant if I only wanted?  
Georgie was looking at Ray straight into his eyes and the purring stopped for a moment. Then, once more, tabby  pushed himself into Ray's grip and started that special sound again, and even when the fingers around him tightened, and tightened, his gaze didn't falter from Ray's face and the sound stopped only when the kitten wasn't able to fill his lungs anymore. And still he watched Ray right into his eyes, in perfect calm.  
And the instant Ray released him, the kitten only shook himself, crept oh so carefully over his chest, and settled himself, yes, purring, right under Ray's chin, softly grooming his stubble once again.  
He knows, thought Ray. He knows I can do it.  
And he knows I won't do it.  
But what if I had done it?  
It would have killed me if I did.  
  
Thump from the door startled Georgie, who then happily rushed to greet emerging Bodie who carried a small pile of firewood on his arm. Gush of cold air made Ray shiver and his mate hastily pushed the door shut with his foot before entering the living-room to relieve himself from his burden.  
Ray got worried when he noticed how stiffly and gingerly his mate lowered himself to get rid of the wood and load the fireplace, and how little wood there was. ”You found some” he tried to sound content.  
”Yeah there's plenty, and I loaded the wheelbarrow, that's no problem...”, Ray noticed a grimace, ”but this fucking arm is. I forgot it this morning in kitchen with that bloody kettle, dunno what happened but now it's almost useless...”, Bodie sighed, ”and hurts like hell all the way down from shoulder.”  
Ray frowned. ”Well you've broken that one at least once before, mate. We should try to put it in a sling once you've got a bit more wood in here.”  
Bodie tried to shake his head but stopped the movement short with pang of pain. ”Nope not yet, I have to go check the road a bit farther off. At least I want to see what happened, before the snow covers track.”  
Only now Ray noticed wet patches on his mate's anorach. ”Snow?”  
”Yepp, one friggin' Winter Wonderland on its way. It started to snow when I went out, and looks like it will bloody continue for hours if I can tell anything by those clouds. Last time ever that anyone will get me to set foot on these damned Highlands...”  
With mighty effort the dark-haired man heaved himself on his feet again and went back to the door, returning in a moment with another pile which he unceremoniously dropped on top of the previous one seeing that Georgie had returned into safety beside the curls.  
Both men were silent the next minutes while Bodie gradually filled the box beside the fireplace. Finally he straightened his back and checked the fireplace once more. ”Ok there's wood enough for a couple of days and this fire should keep at least one hour or so. Whaddya think, do you manage without pills that far?”  
Ray sighed. ”I'd better, it isn't that long since the last and I think I chewed on them as candies last night... But I could take some water or something before you go.”  
Bodie responded without a word and after serving his mate, meant to go out.  
Ray's quiet voice stopped him. ”Promise you're careful, mate.”  
Bodie sneered. ”I think I still can walk a few hundred yards without being babysitted, thank you for your confidence.” Angrily he turned to leave.  
”Bodie, I need you.”  
Ray's tone was undecipherable... and that simple sentence forced the ex-mercenary turn back and return to living-room's doorway. And just as keenly as the green eyes had surveyed his own face earlier, he studied Ray's.  
Finally Ray allowed their eyes meet. ”You're injured, Bodie. I may be an idiot otherwise, but I know you're hurt, and I worry over you. Your head. Not only because of myself... But hell yes, also because of myself. Because I can't move. Because you're the only one who can help me here. And Georgie. And because you're the only damned berk in the world who maybe could put up with me after we're out from here. And because you're the only one in the world I know who could have got me this far...” Ray swallowed ”... just this once, please Bode, please, really be careful. If you trip or your foot slips... that might be too much. I can't come to help you if anything happens... and I mean, anything.” To his own amazement, Ray Doyle realised that his worry over his partner was genuinely just as great as, or even greater than his worry over his own situation. And a sudden image of Bodie collapsing on the ground and snow starting to cover him, made Ray gasp.  
The blue eyes softened when they approached Ray.  
”No stunts, ok?” he whispered miserably.  
”No stunts, golli.” Small sad smile as Ray was being tucked into warmth right up to his chin. ”Just there and back again, to the curve. And will be back to report to you. Half an hour, one hour maybe. I'll follow the road and take the old man's staff to help me not to slip” he promised. ”But if you tell anyone at the HQ 'bout that, I'll wring your neck.”  
And both men still had the sad smiles on their faces when the door shut after Bodie and Georgie.  
  
  
  
Chapter 21  
  
”Oi Gramp, how're you doing? Butterflies?”  
”Maggots might be more like it, Duncan, seeing yer face. Got around last night, eh lad?”  
Duncan blushed. But remembering how his face had looked like in the morning, he still wondered he was on his two feet at all.  
”Like Grim Reaper himself fluttering in” chuckled his grandfather. ”Aye now you got a bit colour on yer face at least. I mean, face other than your eyes.” Duncan was already pure crimson. ”Nah lad never you mind, sometimes it's good to flush yer head. And you're not the worst, don't worry... Oi, did you reach the two London coppers?”  
”Gramp I told you they're not ordinary coppers, CI5 is... well, it's... a kind of special branch, some from police there, some military, some god-knows-what.” Damned efficient they were anyway, Duncan sighed.  
”Lad, couldn't care less if they were Martians, did you get hold of them or not?”  
”No Gramp, couldn't get through. As if the line was dead.”  
”There was nothing wrong with the line when I called from there the evening before” the old man frowned. ”I don't like this. Can they have broken the telephone while drinking?”  
Duncan didn't hesitate ”No Gramp, they're not the like. They may have a brawl in pub alright but they don't break things guests in good peoples' homes.” Suddenly Duncan started to feel a little worried but he tried to shrug it off, and for a while they chatted about the bone-sawers and what they would do in his grandpa's hip in a few hours.  
Gramp was a tight old bugger, and Duncan couldn't help but chuckle thinking the inquisition the poor medics must have gone through with the practical old farmer. ”Just wanted to make sure I get the worth of me tax-money!” They both laughed at that.  
Nurse popped in and told they would start prepare Gramp for the operation, so Duncan took his leave after promising to call first thing in the morning. He exchanged a few words with the nurses before searching the room for getting his burns re-checked. The burns didn't look that bad, thank God for small mercies, so after getting salve to take home with him, and certificate for a 3-day sick leave to give the Sergeant, Duncan headed to the station.  Today's taxis would make a big hole to his meagre bank account.  
  
Sergeant saw him in the corridor and already opened his mouth but then for some reason snapped it shut again and only asked him if he was in for the report, to which it was aye, and if he had another uniform to replace the one that got ruined, aye again, and if he would be back on duty tomorrow or on sick-leave, to which Duncan replied by handing on the paper from hospital and got instruction to leave his report on Sgt's desk before leaving.  
He then escaped to his desk, and sat there for a moment before grabbing the phone and trying again to reach the Londoners. He had a sort of cold hollow feeling in his stomach and he tried to convince himself it was only the fear of handing over his pitiful report which would mostly include running, some aimless shots, more running and more even more aimless shots, and then getting completely frozen and needing to be rescued like a kitten from a tree. Shite...  
Anyway he could do something useful today, so he contacted the switchboard again and asked to be connected to Gramp's telephone operator, as he didn't find the directory. He reported the problem there and got a reply someone would take a look as soon as possible, but it might take a couple of days before anyone could get there, as they had more top-priority repairs going on and were short of men.  
So Duncan tried to switch on his PC-mode again, and managed with it for some good half an hour, trying desperately keep his report honest but still make it look a bit less disgraceful. All of a sudden he found his hand on the phone again, and in no time he was talking with the old PC who was holding the fort in the village of Muir. After the inevitable declaration of ancestry, the old PC informed him that no strangers had been seen in the village, och aye Angus'es place, no chance to get anyone there in several hours, he had to stay put by the phone and all available policemen of the area were occupied, there was a crashed lorry blocking the road in one place, fire in another, and the roads icy, but yes he would keep Londoners in mind, och the posh CI5, goodness, Supermen themselves, eh? And no, old Ferguson, nobody there, old man in hospital, hadn't  Angus told that? And Mrs staying with her daughter in the village. But yes, if the Londoners came he'd ask them to give a call, ach no need for description, he could tell Southerners from mile apart... Capri? Well it takes an idiot to drive a Capri around here, in winter, hadn't Duncan told them that?  
Duncan managed to get rid of the old constable eventually, his head simply couldn't take the chatty old fart any more. Not that it could take the report much better either, but at least he was sort of paid for it. At least for the time being...  
  
  
  
Chapter 22  
  
Bodie stared, stunned, at the view which opened in front of his eyes when he finally made it to the curve. Chrissake... Part of the hillside had given away, and the telephone line was down, at least one pole must be buried there... Feeling shaken Bodie slowly walked to see down the bank and stared at the groove Capri had carved into it, and to the wreck he saw almost a dozen yards lower in the river. He remembered the sick feeling of somersault and thought for the first time that if they had driven their usual style, without using seatbelts, they both would most probably be lying dead somewhere down there... For. Christ's. Sake.  
For once in his life the cynic mercenary wondered whether there indeed could be some sort of providence; it felt unbelievable that they had actually escaped alive. Bodie felt sick hearing the shrieks of the car in his ears again, and he backed off hastily.  
To pull his thoughts away from the fall Bodie forced himself to focus again on the mound of earth and stones covering the road a few feet deep. He had to see what was on the other side of it, and try and make some warning sign for the next driver who might not otherwise be as lucky as they had been. He couldn't see if the mound extended all the way round the bend, and there was only one way to find out. Apologizing in his mind from Ray he carefully started to find foothold but soon swallowed his pride, left the staff and lowered himself to practically on all four on the uneven and unstable ground. He tried to stay as far from the edge as possible, to give himself at least some fragments of a second more to react, should he lose his foothold.  
Dragging Ray the previous evening, he had thought that he simply couldn't hurt more than that without being shot to pieces, but after the first minute he gasped of agony when his bruised muscles and tendons tried to handle his own bodyweight in awkward position and move him forward. It wasn't only his shoulder and arm, but his whole back felt like screaming and his legs started to feel weak out of strain when the dirt and rubble and stones gave way and he needed to find firmer hold. But finally the gasping, weary agent saw he was reaching his goal and getting back on solid road again, and to his horror he saw one telephone-pole fallen to point exactly to the middle of the road even before the collapsed hillside, hanging by the wires. Now Bodie knew what had hit the Capri, he must have driven straight to the fucking end of the pole in the dusk... yes. The snow hadn't yet covered the road totally, he saw the pole had been jerked by the impact, and the clear skid-marks led from the spot to the edge of the road farther off, where Capri had been dangling before falling down.  
Bodie hoped there would have been something to lean or sit on as he felt he was shaking. In some corner of his conscious mind  he knew that now it was he who was very close of going into a shock. Somehow he managed to force himself to straighten up again, and breathe deep, and make his thoughts return to the farm, to Ray. Bodie couldn't afford breaking down, not now, he would have to make it back to Ray, and he would have to leave a warning. That pole could kill the next driver, especially in darkness, and that could ruin even the last puny chances Ray might have to recovery.  Bodie felt cold sweat on his forehead, but the pain forbade him to wipe it, so he simply pulled the hood of the anorach better over his head, took a few deep breaths and walked forward. What the hell could he do to warn others?  
  
There was nothing to use... oh bloody hell. Bodie stood in the middle of the road, looking around him, imagining what a driver would and could see in time, arriving to the spot on something like normal speed, in darkness. His head was again hurting like hell, making concentrating extremely difficult, but finally he realised that there was a slight curve with a bush of willow growing on the outer side. If he could get there something to get drivers' attention... but what? He didn't have anything useful with him, and the usually so practical man cursed his own thoughtlessness. Even his precious Swiss Army knife would be of no use... especially as it was in the pocket of the other jacket.  
Unless... a thought came to Bodie's head. It might work... but it would make the trip back to the cabin bloody unpleasant to say the least, and Ray would scream off the top of his head. Anyway, the more he thought of it, the more convinced he became that it was the only useful thing to do, as Bodie knew that he most probably wouldn't make it back here again if he would try and fetch something from the house. So the knackered, almost desperate agent braced himself, opened the zipper of his light beige anorach, and in a few minutes a part of the willow-bush started to serve as a makeshift scarecrow.  
  
And in the cozy warmth of flickering flames, Ray fought against the image of snow covering the dark hair.  
  
Paws were cold and wet. Coat was wet and cold too. Georgie had been distracted by rattling leaves, they had been an irresistible temptation for his curiosity, like the field vole who had peeked out from his shelter right when Georgie had decided to follow again the bleeding one. The vole had disappeared refusing to emerge again, leaving the frustrated kitten's whiskers tremble with annoyance.  
The bleeding one had disappeared from Georgie's sight but his nose still caught the faint scent and his ears caught the rattling of pebbles and soft sound of sand farther off along the wide track. So after shaking most of the wet cold from his coat, the tiny tabby confidently hoisted his annoyingly wet and cold tail up and headed along the track towards the small sounds he heard. But his tentative calls were first heard by someone else than his biped mate.    
  
Bodie's concentration was also broken, by pain. Going back over the mound was being pure hell, and he had been forced to stop already a couple of times to catch his breath and to try and ease the strain in his back. Sand had got inside the pullover from under his chin when he had been resting against the ground, and rubbed against his skin, but at least the thick wool had still managed to keep most of the wetness and the wind away.  
Bodie was breathing heavily, the pain in his shoulder and arm was becoming unbearable, and he had to use all his willpower to move his feet again. Thank god, he was getting closer to a boulder, there were a few of them and then the worst would be over.  
Suddenly a tiny figure emerged on top of a piece of rock, merrily greeting with his feline hellos the fatigued man who was simply too exhausted to say anything, but had the tabby been a human female, he would have been totally swept off her feet by the delighted, warm grin that spread on the dirty face.  
  
As Georgie noticed that his mate was trying to move towards him, and the ground under his testing paws felt uncomfortably loose, kitten stayed on the rock, calling the biped every now and then, to remind he was being waited for. And as the man got closer, Georgie's enthusiasm grew, and Bodie's smile returned.  
When theman finally hoisted himself upright, closing in the boulders, and his eyes were able to see over the big rock where kitten was excitedly stamping about, his grin vanished in a fragment of a second, and in total silence the man launched himself towards the boulder to meet with the fox already charging at the unsuspecting tabby. With one swift movement of his one functioning arm the agent swept the kitten off the rock, and instantly tensed his arm to meet the light-weight predator unable to stop itself in time. And where there had been silence only a blink of an eye earlier, in the next blink there was the sound of fox'es teeth audibly clashing together and its yelp, Bodie's startled curse when colliding hunter's claws met his face and he lost balance, and then almost simultaneously thud of his body against the ground, dull sound of ground starting to move – and Georgie's scream.  
   
Ray had allowed himself to drift into uneasy slumber. Weird irrational images flickered in his mind. Still, one part of his mind was keeping track of the time and he knew that Bodie was over halfway the one hour he had estimated, yet on some level he decided to stay watching the images as it made the waiting easier.  
  
Bodie managed to roll aside and stop following the slide caused by his own stumble. Eyes closed he rested for a moment, shaking, his heart racing and pulse throbbing through his head, until Georgie's shrieks forced him to open his eyes and look around him. The kitten was at first nowhere to be seen, but the heart-stopping noise came close, only maybe a couple of yards away and Bodie couldn't leave the kitten, not Georgie... who was certainly hurt and hurt bad, if Bodie could tell anything by the broken long cries.  
While waiting for the ground to settle again, Bodie tried to locate the tabby. He soon noticed little movement in the sand on the other side of slide, and realised Georgie was partially buried by sand and a stone, and what he saw was the head. Feeling sick to his stomach and spitting sand away from his mouth, trying to call the kitten softly, Bodie again carefully got upright to see better as Georgie hadn't slid as much down as he had. Luckily the space he had left between the edge and his route had been enough to give him time to get away, and the slide hadn't reached the rocks above him and taken those with it.  
But Georgie... oh fuck, if he only would stop crying! Adrenalin, both of the sudden attack, and of the fright the slide and the cat's shrieks caused, was running high, making the man pant and all his senses were heightened, making the wails of the injured animal ring in his ears. Bodie's eyes swept the nearby area looking for signs of the fox, but instead he noticed the staff right on the other side of the boulders. It might be helpful in trying to get Georgie loose, and if he would have to... even the thought made the him feel nausea. So he started to work his way towards and around the pieces of rock, fighting the voice in his head urging to stop those pitiful cries instantly with a piece of stone. Time was not standing still, the wavering shrieks – tenth, eleventh, twelfth... - were measuring it... and finally Bodie was back with the little animal, pushing the other end of the staff through the sand and pebbles to move the piece of rock.  
  
Good thing he had got the staff, it was sturdy and strong, no way would Bodie have been able to lift the stone with one hand only if he didn't have the stick to use as a crowbar. Pushing slowly and steadily, staff against his less injured shoulder, he managed to quickly remove the sand over and around the kitten and release the pinned frontleg of the biting and screaming little creature. ”Hey hey hey, Georgie, fella, I'm trying to help you, don't bite so fucking hard... keep still, mate, keep still for God's sake, you only hurt yourself even more... Oooh bloody hell... ” One look at the leg dangling in an unnatural angle when Bodie picked the hysterical kitten up, told him that the leg was broken, if not even worse. He rested on his knees for a while, gently holding the shaking tiny creature against his pullover. ”Well you got yourself into a mess, mate... and what a mess... what the hell am I going to do with you now, chappie?” he whispered to the shivering feline. Oh he knew alright what he should do. He knew. And he knew what he shouldn't have done in the first place. He knew it bloody fucking well. But the pitiful effort of purr that he heard and the move of head against his chest made sure that the certainty was shoved aside. And another certainty took its place. Come hell or fucking high water.  
The ex-merc started to work his way towards the boulders once again, inch by inch, hardening himself against any possible fights, bites and screams from his tiny quarry firmly secured in his big right hand he tried to hold against his pullover, fervently hoping it would take the almost non-existent weight of the injured kitten as he needed the other for balancing himself until they could get on the clear road again. ”At least you're hell of a lot lighter to carry than Ray” he mumbled, ”And William Andrew Philip Bodie, you're officially declared friggin' bloody insane”. The man grinned, savagely, and once again shut everything else out of his consciousness but his closest surroundings and his goal. Once more it was only steps, one after another... nothing more complicated than that... short, yeah, careful... steps.  
  
Three quarters of an hour later, the already wide awake and deadly anxious Ray Doyle got the scare of his life, when jacketless, dirt-covered, bloodstained, wet, and partially snow-covered Bodie practically crashed through the doorway, barely managing to shut the door behind him, and then slowly collapsed on his knees beside Ray's mattress. Yet another shriek of pain escaped from the dirty, wet and rugged Georgie when Bodie placed him into Ray's warmth where he then shivering started to settle down, realising he was safe, with his group.  
”Bodie...”  
”Give me a minute, Ray. I'll tell you everything. Just give me a minute, I need to know I'm here again.” And although that whispered sentence did sound totally incomprehensible, Ray, remembering his own strange dream visions, knew exactly what Bodie meant. So in silence he watched his tough partner lean his back against the box of firewood, move into sitting position and close his eyes, and Ray waited until the blue eyes opened again.  
  
”Bodie, you need to get into dry clothes.”  
”Later, Ray.”  
”No, Bodie, now.” The glance Bodie gave him was withering. ”Save those stares, mate.” Ray's voice was silent and cold. ”On your feet. Sorry mate, but if you don't do it now, you're not gonna do it today. I need you to lay down to rest, but you're not gonna do that soaking wet. On. Your. Feet. Add firewood now as there's still some ember. Wash yourself and tend to those scrapes in your face if you can. Put kettles on and make us a quick meal. Get changed, I'll help you with the pullover. Do what you have to do with me, if you have to and if you're able. Do what you have to do with Georgie, and I help you all I can. And we eat. And we take our pills. And then, you add even more firewood, and you lay down, and you bloody hell STAY down until I give you a permission to lift your thick head!” Blazing green eyes softened. ”And then, mate, you tell me what happened. Everything. You don't have to talk before, and you don't need to talk after that, you just rest, and I'll let you rest and I keep my mouth shut.”  
Bodie forced his brain to function, and he realised Ray was right. He would have to move now, while he still could make himself. So he sighed deep and embraced himself, to start the horrifying task of trying to get standing again.  
  
  
  
Chapter 23  
  
Finally the last full stop was in its place and Duncan got on his feet to take the paper to Sergeant's desk. He noticed Sergeant Douglas in the room, talking in the phone, and on his way out Duncan heard Cowley being mentioned. For some reason he stayed to wait, and when Sgt Douglas saw him standing by the door, he gave a questioning look and cupped a hand on the speaker.  
”Is Mr Cowley in the house, d'you know, Sergeant?” Duncan heard himself asking.  
”Saw him taking lift upstairs 'bout an hour ago, might well be” and as Duncan lifted his hand for thanks, Sgt turned his attention back to the phone. He did sound reasonably cool, considering that Rutherford had threatened him with disciplinary actions yesterday. But then again, Sgt had been on the winning side. Good for him.  
Duncan stood for a while in the corridor, trying to decide what next. He was starting to feel hungry, so he headed for the cantine in hope of a sandwich and maybe a smile from the new lass behind the counter. At least hers might still be somewhat friendly before she would get to hear the news of his heroic actions yesterday.  
The miserable young man mulled over his report over and over again while chewing at his early lunch. Then he decided he might as well go get his jacket and go home and try to sleep some. Or have a beer and then sleep some. Or have two...  
So Duncan headed back to his desk to take his jacket. PC Baker was talking on a phone when he entered the room, and started waving a piece of paper at him. Duncan grabbed the paper, and managed to decipher words ”Call Muir”. So he sat at his desk and in a couple of minutes heard the voice of the old PC. Poor bugger must have been bored to death as he wanted to tell him about some childish issue with a broken bottle of whisky old MacCafferty had found going to check his boat, with a faded piece of paper in it. Some tourist kids must have been playing by the river and both Duncan and the old constable agreed on it. And it was only in the corridor on his way out when the last sentence of the old constable got through Duncan's aching head. ”Och those stupid tourists... what a waste of good Glenfiddich”. In an instant Duncan was back in the phone, asking what was written in the paper, but it looked like MacCafferty had let the piece fall into the river.  
PC Lennox was still far from stopping telling himself he was being even more imbecill than yesterday, when he found himself staring at a pair of startling blue eyes already blazing of fury.  
   
”What is it, lad? I don't have much patience left for the Aberdeen Police today.” CI5 Controller was almost growling. The young pale man standing before him swayed slightly but it might have had more with his obvious previous drinking to do than with anything else. First the ass Rutherford to deal with, at least the MI5 Controller had managed to see reason after hearing report from the Fire Chief, but that Rutherford... and now some hung over young copper wanting to see him for whatever the petty reason. George Cowley only wanted to get his things packed and take the first flight back to London, maybe he would get some sleep in his own bed. Och and he still should arrange Kennedy's treatment, but maybe the hospitals would manage between themselves. Man wouldn't be in condition to transfer any time soon though so there was time.  
”Sorry to disturb you, sir” said Duncan after briefly introducing himself. ”I... This may be stupid, but...” he cleared his throat.  
”At least is sounds promisingly so” growled the old Controller. ”Come on, spit it out, I want to leave Aberdeen behind me and the sooner the better.”  
Duncan swallowed.  
”It's these men of yours, sir, agents Bodie and Doyle.”  
”What about them? Did they cheat you your money or what?” Old man's eyes drilled into the young man. ”I heard they left somewhere for a couple of days. They'll be back to fetch Bodie's car and you catch them then.”  
”Nothing like that, sir. I know where they went, gave them key to me Gramp's... my grandfather's house, sir, they went up close to the Cairngorms. It's only  that I'm worried, sir. Worried for them, I mean.”  
Duncan wasn't quite able to decipher the look that flashed on Controller's face. ”Sit down, lad, before you fall down.” Duncan did as he was told.  
”Any particular reason causing the worry?” The old man had walked to the window. The tone of his voice had changed somehow. It had lost none of the edge or the sharpness, but the anger had gone.  
”None other than that I can't reach the house by phone, sir.  Line seems to be down. And then, the whisky-bottle.” Duncan knew perfectly well how dull and stupid that did sound.  
Controller turned to gaze at him again. ”You've been drinking last night, lad. After yesterday that's no wonder. Did Bodie and Doyle take a drink before they left or what do you mean?”  
”Och, nay, sir, definitely no. I saw them just before they left, sir, took them the key, they had bought whisky, three bottles, saw mr Bodie packing them, but they were totally sober, knew the weather and so. It's only that I can't help thinking something has happened, and if me Gramp's line doesn't work and they can't get out of the house... ” Duncan swallowed again. ”An old man had found a broken bottle of Glenfiddich in the river which runs by the road taking to Gramp's and it looks like there had been a piece of paper in it but the old fool... I mean -”  
”I know what you mean. The old fool”, mr Cowley interrupted him. ”Fool meaning that the paper is not to be read and the man has managed to lose it, right? And it was Glenfiddich you saw Bodie pack in?”  
”Aye, sir.”  
”Any reports of accidents?”  
”Nothing involving Capris, sir, I checked before coming up here.”  
”You said up to Cairngorms. Locality?”  
”Pretty dead, sir. I mean, the house is alright, electricity and all, but closest neighbours in wintertime are about 15 miles away and it's a bit over 20 miles to village from the house. The man who found the bottle had only been checking his place and already left. I spoke with the nearest PC, in Muir, they have no-one to spare to check the house that far away, 3 men in all and I didn't get anyone else from the next station there either. I asked, sir. But I understand that they...” Duncan's voice faded away and the old man nodded.  
Duncan swallowed again and mustered his courage to continue. ”And I'm in no condition to drive, sir.” Mr Cowley saw to his amusement crimson spreading to the pale face. ”And even if I was, I don't have a car of my own. And I don't have the money to pay for a taxi almost a hundred miles per direction, me payday is only next week...”  
The old Controller coughed. ”Let's put a couple of things straight, lad. First: are you still drunk?”  
Duncan felt hurt. ”Nay, sir,  butI wish I were! Wouldn't feel like shite and wouldn't feel meself such an idiot. Sir.”  
The old Scot hid the smile that almost got to his lips. ”Good. That also partially answered my next question: Do you understand how damned ridiculous you sound, PC Lennox, standing there like a walking dead, after operation that wasn't quite... glorious for you, worrying over two of my best men only because they can't be reached by a bloody phone?” That voice was like a butcher's knife.  
But Duncan lifted his gaze and looked straight at those cold eyes. ”Aye sir, I understand that completely, sir.” He was now pale, but his gaze was steady.  
”And what do you want from me, Lennox?” it was like a whiplash.  
Duncan moistened his lips. He didn't know, hadn't believed he would be listened to even this far. ”Well, sir, maybe if you had one of your agents still here, we could go and have a peek?”  
”Och that would be a sight, see what would happen if you'd rush there with another agent to fuss around... you'd get done over, lad. My men wouldn't take to that kindly. Besides, I sent everyone home this morning.”  
There was a knock on the door and the controller looked at his watch. ”Och, Sinclair of the Yard. Have to meet him. Run along now lad, and I'd recommend you try to get your head clear and take a pill or two.”  
Duncan opened his mouth to say something, but as his heart sank, he swallowed and nodded as goodbye. His hand was already on the doorhandle when Controller's voice stopped him.  
”And in the meantime, get us a good car with a good radio and likewise good tyres, Granada if one can be found, for me size eight boots, warm socks, anorach and decent gloves, also any other sensible equipment your vivid imagination comes up with. Send my clothing up here in one hour. For you, also decent warm clothing. You meet me in the cantina in precisely 90 minutes, I need to have quick lunch. And be ready to set off immediately after that.”  
Duncan's jaw dropped for a moment, then he grinned from ear to ear to the old man as relief surged through him. ”Aye, running all the way, sir!”  
He was out from the door in a flash, missing the ”Och good Lord, another one”, that was muttered after him.  
  
  
  
Chapter 24  
  
The first bit wasn't that hard, Bodie was able to add the firewood on his knees. The warmth of fireplace was so alluring, he only wanted to stay there and be radiated by it, but Doyle, he bloody hell kicked and kept on kicking, without moving any other muscle than those of his damn jaws and tongue. So, swearing, Bodie had hauled himself on his feet again, and had already forgotten why when he finally managed to stand up straight.  
”Bathroom, Bodie” he heard the guidance. ”Get going, or at least don't fall on me.”  
Bastard. That man really knew how to piss him off.  
”Wash your face and hands, those scrapes look nasty.” Ray didn't feel comfortable until he heard running water from the bathroom, and a few loud curses that made him grin despite everything. Soap and scrapes were always an infallible stimulant and stinging scrapes would keep Bodie awake for a moment.    
”Kitchen, Bodie...”  
A deep breath. Right. Bread. Kettles. Tin. Opener. Bodie's fingers hurt like hell them too, Georgie had done a great job with his spikes, he realised it now as feeling was returning. Tea water. Oh the bloody soup into the kettle. Ham.  He had forgotten the damn gloves... What else had he forgotten? It was so hard to think. Ham... Cheese. Veggies. What else?  
He leaned heavily on the wall next to the table. Nausea, fatigue and desperation came as a giant dark wave and he gasped for air. This was too much... this fucking bloody hell was too much... the dark wave tried to suffocate him, before the constant calls got into his consciousness, someone was calling his name...  
Ray had watched his mate paralyse, lost somewhere. Fear was trying to sneak in, but he tried to keep it at bay and concentrate on his partner and managed finally, hell, finally, get through to him, saw him straighten up and wipe his face. ”Bodie, hang on, mate. You can do it.” Bodie still refused to turn. ”Listen, I know you're hurt. You're tired. Tired beyond belief, I gather. Just hang on for a few minutes more, then you get to rest. I KNOW you can do it.” Still no glance.  
”Do you?” finally a suffocated reply.  
”Yeah, I do. I do know that even if you don't.  You got us this far mate, you did all the hard work, you bloody hell did it already. Now, we only get you to dry clothes, fix Georgie and eat and you lean back after that, lean back and stop worrying. Oi! There's something boiling over, mate, you'd better have a look.”  
Coarse curse told Ray that Bodie was back, at least for the time being.  
In a few minutes Bodie returned to living-room. ”We'll have bread and chicken-soup in a few, and tea is coming too.”  
Ray was content but forced his partner to start changing his clothes. It was a struggle, but in the end Bodie got to the point where Ray again was holding the pullover and Bodie was wriggling out from it. Ray realised the pain in shoulder must be turly agonizing when the hard-boiled agent let out a pained moan, but Bodie bit his lip and finally got rid of the dirty garment which left sand and dirt all over the mattress and Ray. Gasping and sweating Bodie still couldn't yield to such filthiness but he staggered to find a brush and the dustpan, and he carefully cleaned also the area around shivering, still wet Georgie, and gently dried the little kitten with a towel – of which Ray was very grateful as the tabby had been pressing against him. Georgie shivered even worse than before when Bodie touched him, but he didn't try to get away as Bodie didn't try to move or lift him.  
”He's hurt, isn't he?”  
Ray saw Bodie wipe his eye and sigh deep. ”Yeah... at least his front leg is broken, maybe even crushed. I don't have a clue what the hell I could do about it... I don't know anything about cats...” Frustration and grief tried to overwhelm Bodie.  
Ray thought hard. He had a feeling that for his partner this was something far greater, far more important than a question of mere broken bones in some cat. ”Well... I guess the basic things still apply. I think he would feel better if the ends of the bones wouldn't move that much, could we try and make some sort of splint? Maybe... well, maybe use some tube or pipe, if there's something here you could split in two or slit open from one side, and tighten it around the leg with some sort of tape? You know, like the straws you talked about? Or something of the sort? It could help him cope until we get him to the vets.”  
Bodie gave his mate a grateful, shy look. ”I'll see what I find in drawers.”  
Ray stared after his mate. He had seen a tear... a tear on Bodie's face, a tear caused by a hurt kitten. What the hell had happened out there? And who was this man?  
  
It was pain. Agonizing. Ray didn't know which hurt him most, teeth and nails digging into his hands, Georgie's screams and shrieks, or the deadly pale man who tried to control his shaking muscles and hands in desperate effort to stabilize  the leg and it's tiny bones with a combination of cotton, thin cardboard from toilet-paper roller and duct tape.  
But finally they made it, and shivering, moaning, totally rugged Georgie was gently put again against Ray's side, under cover, and Bodie straightened his shoulders for a moment before probing quickly Ray's abdomen. ”You probably cope a couple of hours at least” he said in a husky voice.  
”Sure”, Ray was confident. ”Maybe now we take our pills and eat?”  
Bodie nodded. Then he looked at Ray's bleeding fingers and realised that he hadn't heard a word of complaint from his mate, and without a word he again struggled on his feet, tossed more wood in the fire and fetched a little warm water and wiped Ray's hands clean. And yet once again he managed to stand up, and eventually fetch their food and drinks, and they took their pills and ate in total silence.  
For once, the tidy soldier simply tossed their plates, glasses and mugs farther off when they had finished, and they tried in vain coax the still shocked kitten to have a morsel of cheese. After their futile efforts Ray took a look at his partner and their gazes met finally. ”Why don't you just lie down now, Bodie” Ray said gently. ”If you feel like telling what has happened, do so, but I don't mind if you take a nap or something.”  
Somewhere deep in his tired mind Bodie realised that his generally impatient mate was performing an ultimate effort of self-restraint. Letting his head finally meet the pillow he sighed deep,  wondering if he could make himself to let out any intelligible sentences. Ever again.  
Halting and hesitating was his story. Very factual and precise, as his reports usually were, but when Bodie came to the point where he had understood what had happened, looking down the bank, he instinctively hunched closer to his partner whose hand took a hold on his wrist, never letting go until Bodie was back in the house.  
”You did a good job again, mate. Bloody hell, you really did a good job... ” Ray swallowed, stunned as the reality of their situation really had struck him. No wonder Bodie was so totally exhausted. Chrissake...  
”I shouldn't have done that, right?” came a sudden, bitter question.  
”Done what? Ok I told you no stunts but yeah I know you had to go over to see...”  
Bodie interrupted him. ”I mean Georgie. I shouldn't have meddled. It was too much a risk. I should have known. I should have priorised.”  
Ray hesitated before asking ”Well... why did you then?”  
The dark-haired man was quiet.  
Ray thought of all he had seen, heard and felt here. ”You did it because he's a mate, right?” Ray felt Bodie nod after a moment of hesitation.  
But the sarcasm and bitterness in Bodie's next words hurt Ray deep. ”Yeah. Fucking pathetic, eh? Stupid animal. Two stupids there. I know, so you can spare your breath.”  
Ray wanted to swear, but he managed to swallow it. ”No... you did what you should. You couldn't have left him, eh? That's clear. He was under attack, you were there, you acted, that's all. He got hurt, you saved his arse. That's all too. That's what we're trained to do. He's a cat, yeah, but he's become our partner. We're supposed to look after our partners. So what you did was right, under the circumstances.”  
”You think so?”  
”I know so.”  
Bodie was quiet for a while. ”It wasn't his fault... Bloody hell, all he did was to follow me there... he was so happy seeing me come close he didn't pay attention... it wasn't his fault!”  
Ray felt his partner tense, so defensively that it hurt. ”You did the right thing. If someone has the nerve to say something else, I'll give 'im a whack.”  
Bodie felt Ray's fingers let go of his wrist... and search his hand. Tight squeeze.  
”Now you rest, mate. Come closer if you're too tired to put a shirt on. If you fall asleep, I wake you up in a couple of hours. 'kay?”  
” 'kay.” Shyly, Bodie moved closer to warmth. Georgie's head peeked out from under the quilt, and settled down again, with a calmer look in his eyes.  
Bodie hid his face against his friend's shoulder.  
  
  
  
Chapter 25  
  
88 minutes had passed when panting PC Lennox came again into sight of the CI5 Controller in the cantine and the fact made the older Scot chuckle quietly. Lad had effort, and he had managed to aquire good quality garments. He still looked hung over though. Mr Cowley wasn't that perky himself either, and had tried to have a wise meal to not make himself feel sleepy, so he signalled the young man to bring more coffee to the table. Mr Cowley noticed some sneers pointed at the young copper who got visibly embarassed, and felt a little compassion. He knew from experience that fire was terrifying when it roared and danced around you, and he quickly pushed some of his own memories away.  
Instead he raised his voice to the young man closing in the counter. ”Oi, Constable, did you get all we need?”  
Duncan nodded. ”Aye sir!”  
”Good lad! Well done. Have a cup for yourself too, my treat.” Ach, maybe he was becoming mellow, but at least those bullies would get something to think about. Especially as mr Cowley didn't remember any of those faces from the warehouse. It's always easy to snigger when your own arse has been out of danger.  
He quietly observed the young man who finally made it to the table with the coffees. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the lad really, sand-coloured hair neatly cut, open and quite pleasant features, seemingly well built and athletic but in a moderate way. Despite his obvious temporary... weakness, still the lad look strong and agile and hardy.  
”You're not a city-boy, Lennox?” Mr Cowley nodded his thanks when the extra cup was passed to him.  
”Nay, sir, not really, me parents also had a farm up at Cairngorms, on the eastern side, north of Braemar. We moved into city when I was 16, me Mum got poorly. I like visiting Gramp when I get the change. Got a hang of rock-climbing, great way to keep fit, and there are good cliffs around.”  
Mr Cowley chuckled. ”Aye, cliffs and rocks alright. And what does your grandfather say about your climbing?”  
Duncan took a pained look on his face. ”Lad, lad, havenae ye got cleaner ways to kill yerself?” They both laughed.  
They finished their cups quickly. ”Your car should be ready now. Got you a Granada with good tyres, and the lads fixed it a little for you, sir. I also took some other stuff with me, map, ropes and so on.”  
The lass behind the counter gave Lennox a bag and when Mr Cowley offered to pay for the extra coffees, she put her finger on her lips and winked an eye towards the blushing constable. ”A couple of sandwiches, and tea and coffee, as you wanted, PC Lennox.”  
Duncan explained: ”In case you start to feel drowsy while driving, sir. Noticed earlier you were tired.”  
Mr Cowley raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. Not bad. Not many were able to see through his tested facade. ”Well then, off we go.”  
  
The Controller looked at the radio quite impressed. It was a very latest model, he only had got one to be tested in CI5. That wasn't from a regular copper car.  
”Duncan here” the electrician winked towards the boot where Duncan was making the last check, ”he said yer up to Cairngorms, sir, so we figured if yer needin' a talkie, it better be a good one an' this here is our best. If somethin' happens, ye also get to military frequences, they're in the glove box. Tank is full see the lads, oil's been checked, and this here lass got herself a new battery too.”  
The Controller nodded his approval and quickly checked everything was functioning. ”Whose radio is it, by the way?”  
The electrician exchanged a startled look with Duncan and coughed. ”Ach, sir, never ye mind that... It won't be needed here today anyway.”  
The Controller sighed, trying to decide whether he should reproach, or thank. He settled with the latter while Duncan finally sat in his seat.  
”Everything set?”  
Duncan hesitated. ”Would you mind stopping by my apartment, sir? It's on our route, and it takes only two minutes. I'd like to grab another piece of equipment. Just in case.”  
Controller shrugged and the Granada started.  
  
  
  
Chapter 26  
  
Ray felt Bodie shiver. ”You awake, Bodie?” He heard a silent grunt and felt slight movement. ”You're cold. Come closer and cover yourself better, mate. It's ok.”  
Slowly, as all his muscles and joints were crying, Bodie did as he was told.  
”Bodie... I would have hated you if you left Georgie there. Maybe I wouldn't have said anything, but I would have hated you. For a while.”  
Silence was more than only lack of words.  
”Do you hate me often?”  
Ray would have wanted to have a deep breath, but his ribs didn't allow him to. ”Every once in a while. You're sometimes so... cold. Or... you seem cold. Maybe it's because... you've been supposed to be that way. Not caring.”  
Bodie only wanted to snuggle into warmth and slide away from all the pain and fear and frustration and worry. ”I care.” Ray hardly could hear him. ”I care 'bout you. Georgie. The Cow. Some girls... Work, sometimes. But it's easier to keep distance. Less painful. To not feel. To not let... touch. Inside. Surface is better.”  
Ray was stunned and had to stay silent for a while trying to think. ”Do you hate me?”  
Instant reply: ”Never.” After a moment: ”I get really pissed off with you sometime, but not hate. Ok, with Marikka, for a day or two, but that was all... you can be a real self-righteous berk, bloody hothead and always in trouble, and a soppy do-gooder you're alright... but you're fair. Different. Decent. Nice change compared with...” Bodie's silent voice faded away.  
”How's your head and shoulder?”  
Grunt. ”In place, unfortunately. Back?”  
Sigh. ”Ditto. Georgie?”  
Bodie lifted the cover. ”Seems to be settling down a little. Thanks for helping there, mate... your fingers got it bad.”  
Ray gave a mock sigh. ”I told you already, idiot. He's our partner and we're supposed to look after our partners. Even when they bite and claw. Or hit... or call us hotheaded soppy berks.”  
Slight chuckle. ”Or murderous bastards.”  
Ray felt he was blushing. ”Bloody... who told you?”  
Louder chuckle. ”Your self-righteous cherub face, sunshine. It was written all over you. You may be a great liar otherwise but you've always been lousy in hiding your feelings.”  
Ray was again stunned. ”And you still stayed my partner?”  
Sigh. ”Didn't have much choice, the old man didn't let me get on me own... told me you'd do me good.”  
Now it was Ray's turn to chuckle. ”Damned old... he said me the same 'bout you when I went to ask...” Again silence. A comfortable one, this time. ”The Cow really is a strange one. Dunno what to make of him... even after all this time”, Ray finally muttered.  
He heard Bodie yawn, painkillers seemed to be knocking the bigger man out again. ”Nah, he's alright... He's the best man for that place... he cares too...”  
Ray snorted.  
”No, I mean it. He cares... 'bout this bloody country. Justice. Safety. And his people... agents. Can't imagine how much it hurts when things go bad... like yesterday... how he handles it... he's tougher than I am... got to be stronger too, I couldn't take all that... All that shit... He cares Ray, and you're blind if you don't see it. Just watch his eyes... No wonder he lets steam out on us...” Another yawn. ”The Murderous Bastard requesting permission to snatch more of Perfect Policeman's quilt in order to get the hell out of here for an hour or so...”  
”Permission granted” Ray found it hard to say a word. For once he was more than ready to admit his soppyness.  
”What?”  
”Shut up finally and go to sleep.”  
”Thought it was something like that. And ditto.”  
15 minutes later even Georgie's eyes were closed.  
  
  
  
Chapter 27  
  
”Have a nap, lad” had the Controller said when they headed out of down. ”Who knows what waits when we get there. I manage a while and wake you up when there's time for coffee.” Duncan hadn't needed another order, as the sound of motor had already started to hypnotize him.  
He woke with a startle over an hour later. To his astonishment he realised they had come a lot farther he had anticipated, but a quick peek he stole at the speedo showed that the old man had had a heavy boot.  
”You're just the same kind of Sleeping Beauty than Bodie is. He too can fall unconscious anytime anyplace...”  
That didn't sound too unfriendly.  
”Even when he's sober.”  
Ouch.  
”Sir, not that it changes anything, but I dont' usually drink the way I did last night... A pint or two with me mates sometime, that's all. But yesterday... ach, Chrissake... ” even the memory made the young man feel nausea.  
”Well, maybe you learn to be careful next time. Or if you mean to drink, at least have a good bite before. And stop in time so you are awake for a while before you go to sleep. Seems to take the worst edge away...”  
Duncan grimaced. ”I passed out in  me bed with a bottle of Cutty Sark.” That caused an incredulous snort from the indignant driver, and a lecture on the respectful use of the noble Caledonian aqua vitae.  
After a while the older man thought to show some mercy towards the crushed young lad, ach, he would have time to learn... ”Ever climbed the Ben Avon?”  
Sudden change to topic caught the young man off balance and it took a moment before he found his tongue again. ”Aye, last summer. Thought to begin munro bagging and started from there. You been there, Sir?”  
He saw a little smile appear on the Controller's face. ”Aye, I have... Munro bagging? Hand me some coffee while you tell.”  
Mr Cowley got a brief and well-constructed lecture on munro- and marilyn -peaks of Scotland. ”May I ask you sir, how did you find your climb?”  
First came a grimace and then a burst of laughter. ”Och, the best and the worst... it was the summer after the war...”  
Duncan waited quietly, not knowing what he would dare to ask.  
”You're not from around here, are you sir? I mean, I could guess you're more from... Glasgow, maybe?”  
Mr Cowley gave him an amused side-glance. ”I had a friend who was born in Braemar. Met him in the war. I was quite... rugged when we got out of there after some months in a camp and bullet in my leg they didn't dare to operate. When he got the chance he decided to take me here for... recuperation. Fresh air, hikes, damn cold baths, quite a few bonnie lasses offering company... ” Smile had returned and Duncan noticed that this time it really had reached the eyes too. ”And late that summer he got the idea we would climb Ben Avon. Easy one, he said. I thought I was already in good enough condition so I didn't have the sense to say no... We got up there alright, aye, and got even down in one piece, but the next day in the damned inn it took me a good half an hour to get out of the bed... and I told him I'd bloody kill him if he ever got another bright idea again!” Now they both laughed heartily.  
”Aye, Ben Avon is not bad if you're used to climbing... anyway you can't imagine how many muscles you have, before they start aching, or joints before you sprain them... when I started climbing, I used to count me cuts and bruises, but stopped sometime after two hundred...” Duncan's confession gave them a new chuckle.  
”Yer friend, sir, he still in Scotland?”  
Another side glance, a bit wary this time. ”Nay, I guess it was the last summer he spent here. He stayed in the army... and in other services. The last years he's been in a wheelchair.”  
Duncan wanted to bite his tongue. ”Och I'm sorry Sir. I didn't mean to pry but looks like me mouth is full of toads today. Wheelchair? That must be awful for anyone who's enjoyed to be out and about.”  
Mr Cowley nodded and then gave a little smile. ”Don't worry, Lennox. It's only good for a copper to be curious.” And in his mind George Cowley wondered, how many years... decades it was since he had even mentioned that summer to anyone. Or if ever?  
”By the way, Constable, I would appreciate if you didn't try and find my friend's family. There are... reasons.”  
Controller met a level gaze. ”Didn't even cross my mind, sir. I may be too curious but I do understand some things are none of my business.” And that mild reproach made Mr Cowley smile inwardly.  
  
They had continued in relative silence for quite a while when Duncan, who had been peering out from windscreen, suddenly swore.  
”Sir, it snows up there. And by the look of those clouds, it snows heavy.”  
Mr Cowley grunted. ”How far to go?”  
Answer came instantly. ”About 5 from here to Muir and a couple of miles past the village until we take the road up, and 20 miles from that crossing.”  
”Thank God not more than that. You know the road well?”  
Duncan nodded. ”Aye. And I took chains for tyres from the car-pool, once we turn from main road I put them on. It doesn't take long. They slow us some but make driving a lot safer.”  
That made Controller breathe easier. ”Good thinking, lad.”  
Astonished glance. ”It does snow up here you know, sir.”  
Was that another mild reproach? Cheeky lad. ”Not that often in London, laddie. Haven't had many chances for snow rallies lately. And haven't missed those either.”  
Aye the grin was definitely cheeky. ”Ach, I'm sure you get the hang of it in no time, sir.”  
Controller couldn't help wondering what a few weeks with Bodie and Doyle would do to this young man and he threw a warning glance at his passenger. ”You'd better believe in your flattery then, young man.”  
  
Thank God young Lennox really knew the road and warned beforehand on tight curves, bumps, parts of the road where wind might have caused the snow form dunes, slopes where you needed to really gather speed to make it up, and downslopes where you'd been in the ditch if you touched the wrong pedal. But not even the young copper knew how to react to the strange sight that met them through the overworking swipers. ”What the...” Mr Cowley stopped the car. ”Out, young man, and go see what that is.” Duncan was already opening his door and stepped in the middle of whirling snow. Cowley's patience wasn't enough to wait for the report though so he grabbed his hat and rushed out before the constable got back. For some reason he had a very cold, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
In seconds he reached pale Duncan, who had already taken the anorach down. ”Me Gramp's anorach, sir. Know it from that ripped seam. And these were in the pockets.” He handed a pair of gloves to the older man.  
”Bodie's gloves... saw these yesterday... He's warning about something.” Without a word, the two started to trot along the road.  
  
And without a word the two stood side by side and stared at the vision of a road vanishing, before the young man took a deep breath and let out his true feelings.  
”Cuntybuggeryfucktoleybumshite.”  
And that ultimate Scottish swear word made the older man react. ”Exactly.”  
  
But what had happened to the car? Duncan paid attention to the fallen pole and went closer, and Mr Cowley noticed he took a closer look at the end and brushed snow off from it. When he looked back at the approaching Controller, his gaze was very serious. ”Sir... I'm afraid they've hit this... there's paint and splinters...”  
Carefully, fearing what they might see, they approached the edge and started to scan the slope until their eyes focused on a part of a car's rear in the river, and the few words Duncan heard the older man growl made him move farther off a couple of feet.  
Only in seconds the Controller collected himself. ”Can you get down there, Lennox?”  
”Aye, sir. I just fetch my gear from the car. By the way, I need something solid where to attach the rope. I'd suggest that while I sort out the ropes and harness, you turn the car, there's a widening only a couple of dozen yards back from where it stands, and reverse it here. If this snowing continues it gets harder anyway. I could use the towing hook to fasten the rope to.That alright with you?”  
Controller nodded despite the missing sir. ”Let's get on with it then, lad.”  
  
About half an hour later panting and flushed Duncan hauled himself back to the road. ”Right... first things first. And the less bad news. There's no-one in that car. Also, there's no luggage, none of the bags I saw. The passenger seat has been removed and taken away too. It must have happened through the boot, as both front doors don't open enough. The car is a fecking wreck, it must have somersaulted as even the roof is partially crushed. Also, it's partially in water. They have to be hurt, both, as even on driver's side there's blood both on the seat and in the inner lining and windscreen. But what worries me most is that removed seat.”  
Duncan tried to catch his breath. ”There's no way they could have climbed this bit, even if they had been uninjured, so whoever it was who brought the anorach and gloves, must have come over the fallen ground. The house is only a few hundred yards away.”  
Again the Controller nodded. ”Well done, lad. I take a map from the car, and you whatever you think you may need and we get going.”  
Duncan hesitated a bit. ”Are you sure you manage, sir?” The look he got was hell of a lot colder than the snow-filled air around him, so Duncan quietly gathered his rope and eased it from the hook, and started to load a big backpack.  
  
The old bugger was hardy alright. And fit, for his age. When they had managed to pass the mound, he seemed to be mostly hurt by the dirt in his anorach and gloves. Duncan had to admit that he felt probably worse, as the remnants of Cutty Sark – or was it the beer – was trying to get up to his nose, and both his head and heart were hammering.  
That didn't escape the blue eyes. ”Well, lad, did I manage?”  
Duncan sighed, he couldn't take this right now. ”Aye, Sir” he mumbled, humiliated.  
”Well, maybe I manage also the level road without strokes or heart attacks. Off we go, lad.”  
  
  
  
Chapter 28  
  
Standing on the snowy stairs before the door, George Cowley had to take a few deep breaths to slow down his racing heart, as he didn't know what sight would be waiting for him. His knock didn't give any result, so he tried the handle, opened the door and stepped in. As his first view was of two men peacefully sleeping, he already opened his mouth to roar at them, but when his gaze focused on the terrible bruise that was the other side of Bodie's head, and what looked like a makeshift support around Doyle's neck, he closed his mouth and walked quietly in the living room, the wondering Duncan behind him.  
Their gazes swept the room, seeing the various clothes hanging drying, car-seat dumped in the corner, heaters, dirty dishes on the floor, and the fading fire, to which Mr Cowley immediately added a little more wood. Duncan noticed the missing shelves, and seeing them under Ray's mattress pointed them out to the older man. They also saw the opened boxes of painkiller and dexamethasone, which made again Controller's pulse quicken, and stepping into the otherwise neat kitchen, he recognized the catheter-tube. And although he knew they had been moving around quietly, he also knew that in any normal circumstances both men would have already been wide awake. Och Lord Almighty, be merciful... don't let me lose these two as well... not these, not now...  
”Duncan?” he whispered. Startled by the use of his first name, the young man tiptoed into kitchen. ”I'll start making us all tea and something to eat, and waking up the lads. Can you use the radio?”  
Duncan thought for a moment. ”Aye, it's not that different from the ones we have, only a lot more efficient.”  
”Good. The electrician said that there's a list of frequencies in the glove box. Find the closest military base, or any place where you know they have a rescue service. Can you take the co-ordinates for the house from this map?” The Controller handed Duncan the map he had taken with him.  
”Aye, Sir, I'm used to maps and this place is easy to locate.”  
”Good. Introduce yourself with your title, tell about the accident, and tell them that the request comes from the Controller of CI5, me, and that the injured men are two CI5 agents, just to make them prick their ears better, and that I'd appreciate if there was also a doctor on the board as I suspect”, a deep sigh ”a spinal injury on Doyle, and the way Bodie's head looks like, I am afraid he's got a fractured skull. And tell them everything they want to know about the crash. And DO NOT MOVE from that radio until you get the confirmation they are coming with a helicopter, and then rush back here as fast as you can, so that we can secure a landing-place in time. There's not that many hours of daylight left, especially in this snow.”  
Duncan, who had already taken the map and a ruler and a pen he had dug out from somewhere, nodded, and was back out from the door in a couple of minutes.  
  
It wasn't the old Scot who started to wake up the lads, but the tiny tabby. Georgie had woken up to the slight noises that carried to his ears from the kitchen, and the little nose who peeked out to sniff, noticed unfamiliar scents. Georgie started to hiss, moan and growl, and that sound woke up not only Ray, but also the attention of the chief. When he noticed Ray's eyes open, he quickly walked next to the mattress and kneeled down.  
”Easy, lad... easy.” He still whispered. ”Constable Lennox is calling help here as we speak. You've hurt your back, right?”  
Ray's mouth was dry, and he barely managed to cough out his ”Yes” through his astonishment.  
The old Scot hushed him silent and tapped gently his shoulder. ”Will give you a drink in a moment... but what on earth do you have there?” he gently lifted the cover and caught a peek of a kitten with bared teeth... and with a... splint? ”Och... goodness... I get you water, we talk after that.” And when the back of his anorach vanished inside the kitchen, Ray's eyes were filled with tears again and he was fervently thanking all the powers he could think of.  
  
Bodie was relentlessly dragged out of his comfy darkness by Ray's hand tugging his arm and voices calling him. Once he finally managed to force his lids open, it took him a while to grasp what he was seeing. ”.... Sir?”  
His chief was just getting on his feet after handing Ray his drink and collecting the dirty dishes. ”Finally, Bodie, I was getting worried. No, stay down, stay down lad. Keep yourself warm. You'll get tea and sandwiches in a moment and we'll talk. We're in no hurry at the moment, Lennox is calling for help and will get back here once he manages to get in contact with the rescuers.”  
Bodie collapsed back to his mattress. He didn't know if he would have managed to get up in the first place, so the order came as a relief. He heard running water from the kitchen and a clatter when his chief rinsed their dishes, and the old Scot soon emerged with a tray. He gave the lads their mugs and sandwiches and then sat unceremoniously onto floor, with his back against the wood-box.  
”Sir, how did you get here?” Ray couldn't control his curiosity anymore.  
”Well  you can thank PC Lennox for that. Maybe he has some Highland seer in his family. He got worried over you, and as he didn't reach you by phone, he eventually came to me. Brave lad, as he still was very hung over and I wasn't even close to my best moods. Anyway, he managed to pass on his worry and we got here. That's enough of that. Looks like you've got things pretty much under control, but now, tell me what happened here.”  
Bodie sighed. ”Ok... I woke up in the car. We had crashed with that bloody fallen pole but I didn't know it by then and couldn't remember. Car was hanging on the edge, and fell and we got into the river. I needed to fiddle a little with Ray to get him back to his senses, and then as he said he didn't feel his legs, I detached the seat to get it off the water as it was fucking... freezing cold. I realised we had to be very close to this house so I followed the river to get here and get help. But the phone was dead, so I searched for something to help us and found the milk-cart or whatever, and ropes and stuff, and went to fetch Ray. I managed to get him and our luggage here and managed to find some medication. Oh and in the morning I went to see what had happened and left the anorach for warning as I had nothing else. That's pretty much it.” Both Ray and Mr Cowley listened stunned to what even the old Scot guessed to be understatement of the decade.  
”Anything to add, Doyle?”  
Without a word Ray pulled away the quilt from his mate, so that their chief saw the horrifying bruises Bodie had. ”He resuscitated me in the car for minutes, sir. And also he spent in the river a long time detaching the seat. With that shoulder and all. Then, when he came back with the wheelbarrow, he had to carry the other side of it for quite a while in the river, before he got to pulling. With my weight and all the extra. Then he dragged me in here, and managed to move me from the seat to this mattress, and get the wet clothes off. And use the catheter. And make food. And find more firewood this morning. And get over that fucking piece of fallen ground to warn others.” There was a meow under the quilt and Georgie showed his nose. ”Oh yeah, and on his way back, save the kitty from a fox and fix his leg.”  
Embarrassed Bodie managed to snatch the cover back and he curled under it.  
”Och... ” It was a rare occasion that George Cowley was at loss of words for more than a second.  
”Yeah. And even that wasn't all. He figured out how to use seatbelts to secure me into my seat and things like that.”  
Only now Bodie opened his mouth. ”Ray helped. He used his head too although the back must have given him hell's agony. Figured out how to move him from the seat to the mattress, and kept me going when I almost... gave up with everything.”  
The tabby, who was now confident the newcomer wasn't a threat, pushed his head farther off from under the quilt and mr Cowley saw Bodie smile. ”Yeah, mate... and you helped us both. To have some sort of hold onto our sanity.”  
Ray's eyes turned to their chief. ”Sir, could you see to it that Georgie also gets treatment?”  
Mr Cowley blinked a couple of times. ”What did you say his name was?” and colour started to spread on the faces of the two agents.  
”Georgie... Bodie's idea!”  
The said culprit was already pure crimson under his bruises. ”Well it felt so fitting, and it's a good name, isn't it?”  
Mr Cowley's voice was very soft. ”And pray, tell me how it felt such a fitting name?”  
Bodie coughed. ”Because... because he's small, ginger and hardy. And street-wise. And brave. Sir.”  
”And fights and bites like a devil.”  
”Shut up Ray...”  
There was a long silence which was finally ended by muffled chuckles that broke into hearty laughter, and after a moment the lads dared to join in.  
”Och, it was a good thing you added that last bit, Doyle.” Mr Cowley was still chuckling and wiping his eyes. ”The two of you... There are times when I don't know whether you are a blessing or a curse for CI5. Or for me and my nerves... All right I promise he'll be looked after and cared for. But joking aside. What kind of injuries are we talking about here? I already guess that there's a spinal injury to Doyle's back.”  
All traces of merriness vanished. ”That's right, sir. There's a bit of feeling and reactions left, though, so I'd guess there's nothing totally irrevocable if he gets into a good hospital quickly. Also, he's got at least three broken ribs, but they don't seem to be that bad. Maybe something in the neck too but that I managed to stabilize already in the car. Bump into head but it's minor. Some small bruises.”  
Mr Cowley looked at Ray's hands. ”What are those scrapes and wounds?”  
Ray grimaced. ”Your namesake, sir. He wasn't very co-operative when Bodie tried to make the splint for his front leg a few hours ago. It's broken.” Mr Cowley sighed.  
”We'll pay for his treatment, sir”, Bodie said quickly. ”He has to be treated. Whatever it is that they need to do to him.”  
Mr Cowley looked at him. ”And what about you then, Bodie?”  
Before Bodie got his mouth open again Ray hurried in between. ”His skull, sir. It has to be checked thoroughly because I think there may be fractures.” Ray didn't miss the ugly glance Bodie gave him. ”Save those stares, mate. I noticed already in the evening you flinched every time I touched even that side of your head. You hit it worse you want to let out. And your thoughts tarry and you're clumsier than usually.”  
Bodie muttered something that probably was a curse.  
”And that shoulder, Bodie?” Mr Cowley's voice was quiet.  
”It didn't feel broken at first... but now I can't use that hand almost at all, and my fingers aren't working properly either. Other than that, just bruising. And... ”  
”Exhaustion and fatigue”, mr Cowley completed the sentence without hesitation, watching his top agent barely be able to lift his head. ”Aye, lads... looks like I lost a lot more on this assignment than I bargained for. But thank the Lord at least the two of you are going to live to see another day. Whether you'll be fit for the streets, well, that's something that remains to be seen.” He rose slowly to his feet.  
”Finish your teas and sandwiches now in all peace and quiet, lads. Is there anything that should be done or be seen to right now that I could help with?”  
Ray and Bodie exchanged a glance. ”Well, there's Georgie... could you please offer him a some food and water?”  
The two-legged namesake shook his head but with a little smile, and went to kitchen without further comments. He soon spotted Georgie's dishes and the tin, and returned to the living room. ”Now, let me see my namesake properly.” He added more firewood as Ray pulled down his quilt to expose the little feline, and then kneeled beside the mattress. ”Ach... he's small alright. No more than 8 weeks, I would say, probably even less. Let's see... ” and to the astonishment of both agents he gently took the kitten inside a little towel, and lifted him on his side of Ray. ”Come now, little lad... nothing to worry about... yes I know you hurt... will leave your leg alone, just feeling about you a bit... let's see your mouth... 6, 7 weeks maybe...  a little dehydrated... you've done quite a good job with the leg, Bodie... aye... no more probing, laddie, just a bit of cuddling and stroking, eh?Juuust a little bit of cuddling and stroking...” Finally the Scot noticed the stunned eyes of his agents. ”What? I like cats. I used to have them before CI5 when my job only allowed. Can he already drink by himself?”  
Ray was the first to get a word out of his mouth. ”No sir, not from the bowl but he licks water from fingertip. Bodie taught him that. But he eats alright.”  
The thought of Bodie offering water from his fingertips made the Scot chuckle. Aye this kitten must be something special. ”He probably hurts too much to have appetite, and is too scared of me, but maybe he'd take some water...” For the next good 15 minutes the agents followed fascinated how their feared chief coaxed the little kitten to drink and eat.  
Just as he had tucked the tabby back against Ray's side, the front door opened and the out of breath constable emerged brushing snow from his hair. ”Finally, Sir! E.t.a. in about two hours, they're on rescue-flights even now but will get here as soon as they can. Thank god the wind isn't too bad, they can follow the river and the valley despite the snowing and the dusk. Oh hello, you're all awake now. Anything I can do here, Sir?”  
Mr Cowley nodded. ”Take a bite and a cuppa from the kitchen, or make coffee if you fancy, and sit down for a moment. We'll have time to mark the landing after that.” In a few minutes also Duncan had parked his bottom on the solid floor of his grandfather's house.  
   
”Guess we should thank you then, Lennox. Mr Cowley told us you sounded the alarm.” Agent Doyle gave Duncan a little smile.  
”Well... aye, I got worried when I couldn't reach you by phone. Mr Bodie, did you throw one of your bottles to the river?”  
Bodie nodded after a moment. ”Did someone find it?”  
Duncan sipped his drink. ”Thank you sir, very good tea. Aye, one of the old farts... farmers from downriver had been at his place last night and had said in the village he'd found a bottle with a piece of paper in it this morning. I talked with the local PC this morning when I tried to find out if something had happened. He had dropped and lost the paper though, but as they said it was Glenfiddich, I went to see Mr Cowley.”  
Bodie grimaced. ”Oh don't tell me there was someone home nearby...”  
Duncan shook his head. ”Nay, a few miles away. Besides if you had by some miracle made it there, that old bat wouldn't have dared to let you in anyway. He lets nobody in. Suspicious old bugger he is.”  
Bodie sighed. ”Anyway, thanks Lennox. And thank your grandfather too. We owe him a lot. Sorry for the mess though.”  
Duncan grinned. ”That's something I fix in five minutes so never you mind that, mr Bodie. And Gramp, he wants to keep things running smooth and always wants to be prepared. Good thing it helped you too, he'll be happy to know.”  
After that the two agents talked with their boss about yesterday's operation and the results, and about the hurt agent. Duncan, while sipping his tea, wondered how they could all three be so laid-back and calm, as if there was nothing to worry about, although if mr Cowley's first assessment was correct, both agents were seriously injured. Okay, he knew they had taken Gramp's pills which were quite hard stuff, but still. But, thinking about it, what could they do about things anyway? What would fretting help? Maybe they simply were sparing their energy, and by God, thinking that agent Bodie had managed to drag his partner with the seat from the car, and today manage to climb to leave the warning, and all that they must have gone through, they both certainly had to be really worn out.  
Bodie tried to get up. Mr Cowley looked worried. ”You'd better stay down, lad.”  
Bodie grimaced. ”Just need the bathroom... dammit...”  
Duncan was already on his feet. ”Wait, mr Bodie. I'll give you a hand.” When he saw the bruised shoulder he instantly half-kneeled behind Bodie and put his arm under the man and lifted. Bodie was so stunned that he didn't have time to say anything before he was already on his knees, and with one smooth movement Duncan had got him standing. ”Fer goodness' sake, mr Bodie, the muscles in this other shoulder can't be much better. You've burned it with a rope, have ye? It looks like that.” Duncan had noticed the other bruise.  
”Yeah he did that dragging me from the car yesterday” said Ray.  
”Aye mr Cowley, the constable in Muir called yer lot supermen, now I can tell him they certainly are that. Mr Bodie, mind your step, I once got my neck so bruised and jammed I felt I couldn't even walk straight for days...” And one of the supermen let himself be escorted towards the door of the bathroom without complaints.  
”How did he do that?”, whispered Ray. ”Bodie didn't say a word to oppose! He would have lashed me if I had tried to walk him that way.”  
Mr Cowley hemmed. ”I've noticed young Lennox has a special way with people. And he looks very strong indeed.” Controller made a mental note that he should have a look at this young PC's file.  
”Sir...” Ray's voice was quiet. ”What if I don't make it back on my feet?”  
Mr Cowley had already wondered the same. ”Now, Doyle, I don't have an answer for that. I wish I had but I don't. But we'll see what future brings. You already made it back after that woman shot you. All we can do is to hope and pray you do it again, and also work for it to succeed. All I can promise is that I do what I can on my end too. How are things between you and Bodie?” Controller's voice was quiet too.  
”He blamed himself... 'bout the crash.” Mr Cowley had already guessed that. ”We talked about it last night. And about other things. I don't blame him. It simply was an accident. And I think we've... sorted things out between us. We're friends.”  
That was the first time the Controller heard one of the duo to use that word about the other. And somehow it did sound a very big word indeed. But it confirmed the feeling of... peace between the two he had sensed. As if something had finally settled into its place. Something he had waited for years. But had it happened too late?  
  
  
  
Chapter 29  
  
Bodie and Duncan returned. ”What do you say, sir, if I we start helping these gentlemen into more clothes? It would save time when the medics come.” Duncan helped Bodie sit down in an armchair.  ”And we still have time after that to mark the landing for the chopper with fires and lanterns. The field by the house should be hard and level enough to take the bird and the snow isn't too deep.”  
Mr Cowley nodded. ”Bodie, you stay where you are. Where are your and Doyle's clothes?”  
In no time they had managed to help Bodie into a vest and a pullover, but when they meant to start dressing Ray, Bodie suddenly told them to halt. ”Ah, sir, if you don't mind, you might now go mark the landing with the constable here, and return for Ray's clothes after you've finished with that.”  
Mr Cowley frowned. ”Why so, Bodie?”  
Bodie coughed and gave Ray an embarrassed glance. ”Well, it occurred to me that it's been several hours since Ray has... er... taken a leak, sir, and if it still takes a couple of hours...”  
Ray blinked from his mattress. ”Not even my egocentrism needs audience there.”  
Mr Cowley immediately raised his hand. ”Och, all right, I understand. You manage, Bodie?”  
His agent tried to nod. ”I hope so, sir. I give a shout if I we need help here.”  
Their chief winked at Duncan. ”All right, lad, let's go and see what we can do so that the pilots find us if gets dark.” The young lad was already bouncing to the door with the oil-lamps, chatting merrily about his suggestions.  
When mr Cowley was shutting the door behind him he heard Doyle say with longing: ”Bodie, have we ever been that young?”  
A good question.  
Young Lennox was a practically thinking man, it was easy to see he hadn't been born into townfolk. He asked the right questions about what the chopper would need for landing, and in minutes had picked up an area where there should not be surprises for the pilots. Then he fetched loads of firewood so that they were able to make small pyres to mark the landing-area. It was still snowing but not so much that it bothered the fire once they got it burning. And there was enough of wood to keep the fires alive for hours if need be.  
”Can I ask you something, sir?” The Scot was lighting the second pyre and nodded. ”These two agents... how come they take the situation so calmly? I mean, most lads I know would be close to hysterics, or at each other's throats...”  
Mr Cowley sighed. ”Those two... they have been through a lot in their lives already. Also as partners. They know how serious this is alright, but it looks like they have already gone through the worst between themselves. You see, they have been teamed for years already. Chalk and cheese, I used to call them. Very different men when it comes to their backgrounds and personalities... but they were welded together by their work. And although there are times they really get up my nose, they are my top brace. Very hard and hardy men, ruthless when need be, violent when need be... but also intelligent, perceptive, even adaptable. And as a team, always complementing each other. What one maybe misses, the other one catches.”  
Duncan listened in silence and they moved to build the third pyre. ”Are they both coppers? Mr Bodie gives more an impression of... military. Or not the kind of regular military, if you get my meaning, more like... well, hired one.”  
Mr Cowley was stunned. ”What makes you think that?”, he was really intrigued.  
”Well... the way he talks, one thing. And another, that he's fit. I mean, he's built the way which tells he's really used his muscles seriously. He's bulky, I mean, with strong muscles of the kind which don't come in a year or two but rather in a decade or two I could imagine. Most coppers simply keep fit, but not that way. And yeah, most coppers don't get that amount of scars during all their lives, than I saw on him. And some of those haven't healed neatly, I mean, I couldn't imagine such in the army with good medics...  And the way he has used his head, that's really impressive. Can't imagine any of the lads in Aberdeen be able to think that way, so practically...”  Duncan shook his head in awe.  
”What do you make out of Doyle then?” Mr Cowley was curious.  
”Oh he's a copper all right. That's clear. The way he talked with you about yesterday, and everything. He was the one with the 'why's' where as mr Bodie was more like 'how' and 'what then'.”  
That was quite an accurate characterization, mr Cowley had to admit. He enjoyed listening to this lad.  
”He's been terribly hurt though, mr Doyle. The scars in his chest?”  
The older Scot nodded. ”Aye, he was shot very bad a couple of years ago. He made it back to the duty nevertheless.” The third pyre took fire.  
”Tough cookies, both men, right?”  
Mr Cowley nodded. ”Aye, and in more ways than one.”  
They moved to build the last one. ”How long will the CI5 agents stay in field service, Sir? I mean, for example mr Bodie and mr Doyle, they must now be closer to their 40s although they do look younger.”  
Mr Cowley coughed. ”Well there's no set age for as long as they are fit enough. And how do you know they're that age if they look younger?”  
Duncan wiped his nose. ”Hard to say... small things. Eyes. And a sense of... maturity. Kind of. Experience. It's hard to define.”  
And from where comes your experience in perception and reading people, laddie? Mr Cowley wondered. But as the fourth pyre took fire also, all he said was ”Let's get back inside, lad.”  
  
Bodie had managed to get up from the armchair. ”Sorry mate, thought this would be the last time for a while when we get a chance to speak in private.”  
Ray smiled. ”I thought the same.”  
Bodie went to fetch the catheter and water and canister and returned soon. ”Thank god they came, though. I'm... not feeling well.”  
Ray frowned. ”I knew that. Yeah, thank god they came. But Bodie... there's something I want to say.” He swallowed. ”I mean, I don't want you to resign even if I don't make it back to the squad. We can still remain mates anyway. And I want us to remain mates... friends. But the old man needs you there. It is too much if he loses four agents in one blow. It's not easy for him to find good enough people to replace that many... ” Bodie was surprised by this unexpected show of loyalty. ”Besides, working would keep you out of mischief.”  
Bodie chuckled. ”I knew you had something in mind. I'll think about it. I promise.”  
It was hard to focus to place the tube. ”Sorry mate...” Ray tried to suppress his groan. ”Ray, I've been thinking about what you said... about hating me. I wish you wouldn't need to do that. In the future, I mean. I can't change much, maybe... but I just would like you to know I'm not that bad. In reality, I mean.”  
Ray nudged him. ”Hey, berk, I've seen that already. You can be quite normal if you decide to. I just wish you wouldn't act so flamin' macho at times.”  
Bodie frowned at him. ”Look who's talking.”  
Ray swallowed. ”Yeah, mate, I'm sorry. I know... I know I can be a jerk too.”  
That made Bodie chuckle. ”Too, he says.”  
Ray grinned sheepishly before going serious again. ”Bodie... whatever I've said about you before and whatever I'll say after... I know you're the only man who could have done all you did. And the only man who could have taken me through this. And there's no way I can ever thank you enough for everything.”  
To his surprise, Bodie didn't see a hint of soppyness in those green eyes. Just a plain, solid, honest gaze.  
”I'll probably be just the same arse once my back stops hurting, or even if it doesn't. But if ever I could say I love a man, you'd be the one I would say it about.”  
Bodie's eyes widened.  
But still Ray held his gaze steady. ”Oh come on, Bodie... not that way. You can keep your birds alright, and I'll keep mine. But if ever I need to choose between a cozy evening with someone under my arm, and getting out into rain to save your hide, I wouldn't even need to think twice. Probably.” Then he chuckled. ”Hell, so no changes there.”  
That made Bodie snort at first and after a moment they both were shaking helplessly with laughter. And even when mr Cowley and Duncan entered the house again, Bodie was still wiping tears from his face after he'd finished tending his partner.  
”Everything alright here?”  
Bodie was covering Ray and Georgie again. ”Never better, Sir” came from two mouths. And the two Scots looked at each other with raised eyebrows.  
  
After the Scots had managed to slide, pull and tug jeans, a vest, and one of Duncan's Gramp's thick cardigans on Doyle, Duncan started to tidy up so that they would be ready to leave when the chopper came and he cleaned the fireplace carrying the embers out into the snow, the house was still warm and the electric heaters were still in place. They did have time to sit down for chat though, and seeing Georgie made the curious constable gently interrogate the agents about all that had happened and the two soon realised they had been lured to talk more they ever intended to.  
Finally the young man let out what was pressing his chest. ”Mr Bodie, mr Doyle, I really blame meself for this. That you needed to come save my arse, and now this.”  
Bodie grimaced. ”Yours wasn't the only arse there to save, remember? Panic is contagious. And that place was a bloody hellhole to begin with. We've been to tough places before, had some experience. And we're used to work as a team. All of us in CI5. Live and learn, boy. Just don't imitate Ray's guilty-trips. And forget those bloody misters. I'm just Bodie.”  
Ray continued. ”Yeah. Can't really blame you for the land-slide either. Besides someone else would have died in our place. And it's been one of those live-and-learns for us too. You've pretty much saved our arses now so I think we've even. I'm Ray. But our boss, he's still Mister Cowley. You'd better remember that.”  
Duncan grinned. ”Aye, that's somehow easy to remember even for a blockhead like me.  And thank you, agents. You can't even begin to know what a bloody cliff you took off me chest.” He got back on his feet. ”Think I'll go out to listen for a while, sir. They shouldn't be long now.” He disappeared out into dusk with a lantern.  
Men inside were quiet for a while. ”Not bad, that Duncan. He might turn out pretty good, actually. Strong. Not dum either. Kind of... pleasant. Young though.” Bodie looked thoughtful. ”If he was a bit more experienced, I'd say worth considering a recruit.”  
Ray agreed. ”Yeah, we could definitely use his talent in chatting up people. You know more about him, sir?”  
Controller hemmed. ”Should have a look at his file. He's very perceptive also. But so very young.”  
Doyle frowned. ”Is that necessarily a bad thing? Less stuck in habits and mannerisms, easier to mould. More adaptable.”  
His chief looked at him. ”And how would you like to mould him, Doyle?”  
The agent hesitated. ”Well... Hard to say. Kind of like him as he is.”  
Bodie nodded a little. ”Got your point, sir. He might not stay that nice for long with us if he's not resilient enough. But I wouldn't mind seeing him at the HQ some day.”  
Mr Cowley gave his agents a thoughtful look. He would have many things to think about. But his ponderings came to an abrupt end when the front door opened.  
”Oi, they're coming!”  
The sound of rotors made Bodie close his eyes.  
  
  
  
Chapter 30  
  
The doctor who arrived with the rescuers, examined Ray and took careful notes on the symptoms and medication and doses and times when the medicines had been taken, and also interrogated drowsy Bodie about everything that had happened in the car, and how he had treated and handled Ray there, and how he had moved his mate out and into the house. All men listened wide-eyed, even the rescuers.  
They replaced the makeshift collar with a proper one, quickly lifted Ray onto the stretcher, and covered him against cold, while Duncan and mr Cowley searched a suitable box for Georgie and packed him into a backpack as both Duncan and the Controller thought it would be better if the Controller followed the agents, and the PC took the car back, and the doctor, grudgingly though, also agreed Duncan was in driving condition. Duncan's first priority would be to find a decent clinic for Georgie and then come to meet the Controller in the hospital as it was clear that both men would need to stay in.  
”Which hospital will you take them in, doctor?”  
The doctor had already moved to examine Bodie. ”Royal, it has the best facilities for these two. Aberdeen is a good place, and Royal the best there with a possibility to have a MRI-scan too.”  
Duncan took his leave and set off with a lamp and the protesting kitten, and they agreed the chopper would check the car was off.  
”Oi, boys, bring a stretcher also for this man.” The men carrying Doyle were starting off.  
Bodie was stunned. ”I need no bloody stretcher, Doc.”  
The medic was adamant. ”You'd better lie down in case you start to feel dizzy. I suspect you may have an intracranial haemorrhage, and if that is the case, you may have also clotting. Better safe than sorry, mr Bodie.”  
The Controller was startled. ”If that is the case, doctor, how serious is it?”  
The doctor shrugged. ”If that is the case, he'll need an operation to make the bleeding stop if it's still continuing, and to remove the clotted blood as the mere pressure in his brain may cause him problems, make him lose consciousness, cause headaches, problems with vision and so forth, depending on its location and how large the damaged area is, and how heavy the bleeding. If he only had had an ordinary concussion, in my experience he should already be feeling better than yesterday, but it looks like the only changes have been to slightly worse. Of course the operation does have its risks, but greater risk is to leave it, if there really is bleeding or clotting. I'm not a specialist but anyway, considering the field service if these are policemen, if things go in the usual way, it's his shoulder which most probably will keep him longer away from the field than the head.”  
Controller's face was grim but he nodded. ”I trust he'll get best possible treatment. Doyle then?”  
The doctor hemmed. ”Hard to tell as only X-rays and scan will tell what is the real nature of the injury, but your man gave him the correct treatment in these circumstances, and that dexamethasone along with indometacin was a great first aid, especially as he had the sense to give a heavier dose. The injury itself can be anything from a slipped disc to one or two broken vertebrae, but as there is some feeling left, I won't say it's totally hopeless. Anyway, everyone will be wiser once they have been thoroughly examined in the hospital. Most probably he will need an operation too, but whether it has to be done immediately, or if he can be moved to London for it, that remains to be seen too.” The doctor looked at the men. ”Don't worry, Royal in Aberdeen has great neurosurgeons. Pretty much the best place in Scotland as far as I know.”  
Men came to fetch Bodie. ”We could take their belongings with us, as it looks like we're pretty much done in here.”  
The Controller nodded, checked the kitchen and switched off the lights, and locked the door after the rescuers. He took a deep breath and followed his men into the helicopter. Now the fear for his men was really trying to overcome him.  
The Granada had vanished, so the helicopter headed for the easiest route towards Aberdeen. Both agents were quiet and seemed nervous.  
”Sir?” It was Bodie. ”You do take care of Georgie, won't you?”  
Ray also was watching him anxiously. ”We like that little fella.”  
Bodie swallowed. ”And it was my bloody fault he got injured.”  
Ray frowned. ”No it wasn't and don't be stupid. If it wasn't for you the bloody fox would have got him.”  
Bodie still looked miserable. ”Yeah it was. He followed me there, didn't he? And didn't notice the fox because he was so busy greeting and calling me on that block...” Bodie turned his head away.  
Their chief, who had been keenly monitoring his men, suspected that somehow that kitten was also a kind of symbol of the injuries the lads themselves were facing and of their future – what ever else he might also be and mean to those two now. He would need to have good talks with both men later as Bodie's behaviour was somewhat perplexing. ”Now lads, I told you already he'll be taken care of. Lennox is to take him to some good clinic. And we will arrange his treatment and its payment some way. Not from the CI5 budget though. Ach, that kitten reminds me of a ginger cat that wandered to the barracks when I was stationed to Berlin after the war, of course keeping pets was strictly forbidden so we taught him to use a small ventilation shaft to get into the officers' mess and hide in if need be, and arranged him a closet to sleep in and so forth, until a year later we learned that where he always disappeared to was the bloody commandant's apartment...”  
That made a corporal sitting beside him start telling a story of the cat he had as a kid, and when the order came to prepare for the landing, feline and canine Münchhausens had conquered the British Isles. But the two agents fell silent again.  
  
  
  
Chapter 31  
  
Both men had been taken in, Doyle who already had been given morphine by the doctor, to be X-rayed first, and Bodie to CT-scan, very professional-looking teams had been waiting for them as the doctor had contacted the hospital in good time before they landed. The old Scot was pacing around the room, thankful for some true development in these modern times, like the helicopters, yet still anxious. The men had been in for what felt like an eternity, and the Controller tried to convince himself that it was only a sign of thorough examinations. It was already evening and for once he wondered for how long he still could take this. All this. How long he could stay unattached. Uninvolved. How long he would be counting his losses instead of blessings.  
He knew he should sit down and rest, as his body started to feel the toll of the long night and the long day. But he feared that the rest would only invite the true weariness lurking inside of him, and he couldn't afford that. Not yet.  
A nurse popped in to ask if he would like to have a cup of tea, but the mere thought made him feel sick. No more tea or coffee today. Instead he asked where he could find fresh water, as he strongly suspected malt would be out of question. The latter part of the question made the nurse first frown, then smile, and soon he got to swallow fresh cool water.  
And he waited.  
Finally a doctor came in and greeted him curtly. One of those who had been waiting for them... Hammond?  
”All right, mr Cowley. Both men have now been examined what comes to their major injuries and I am not sure whether they have had enormously bad or enormously good luck. I can't for the life of me understand how Mr Bodie has in his own condition been able to move Mr Doyle and still keep him relatively stable and immobile. But the fact remains that both men need specialist treatment. Now, we have given Mr Doyle dexamethasone as injections to his spine as well as pain-medication, and as we have another patient waiting to be moved to London also this evening, I suggest Mr Doyle will be transferred simultaneously. He has a fractured lumbar vertebrae which has caused two discs to dislocate. Thanks to your man's quick thinking, the dexamethasone had already started to have some effect in subduing the swelling, and as it seems, there really is some feeling and even function left in his legs. The other patient will be transferred in... ah, one hour, from here to the airport, and there is room for another one and they are willing to take Mr Doyle in that plane also, and if we have your, and m Doyle's permission, he'll be moved to the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery in London and they are ready to operate on him already tonight. They have better facilities there for spinal operations than we have at the moment. As for mr Bodie, I want him on the operating table as soon as possible, my colleagues hunch on the haemorrhage was correct and the sooner we get to reduce the pressure, the better. But he wants to have a word with you before that.”  
Mr Cowley frowned. ”Can't he be moved to London also?”  
The neurosurgeon shook his head vigorously. ”Absolutely no flying for him, higher altitudes and changes in pressure might prove disastrous. We'll operate him here, and I assure you my team is excellent. But maybe it's best that you come to talk with them now so that we get things rolling on. They should both be in the same room at the moment, follow me...”  
The doctor showed him in and said he'd join them in a couple of minutes. The two had IV's attached to them, Doyle was still wearing the support around his neck and a part of Bodie's hair had already been clipped . ”Well lads, Dr Hammond has updated me. Doyle, he wants you to get transferred to London, he says they have a better facility there and they have a chance to fly you there shortly. I have nothing against it but they need your own consent. Your back would be operated there during the night, the slipped discs that you have.”  
Bodie turned his head. ”And bloody hell you go there, mate. If that's a better place for your treatment then you go there.”  
Doyle tried to look at him. ”Yeah but...”  
Bodie grunted. ”No buts. You go. End of discussion. I come to meet you there then.”  
Doyle's eyes turned to his chief again. ”Did he say anything about... you know, prospects?” His eyes were pleading.  
”I'm sorry lad, he didn't say anything about it. But looks like Bodie had managed to treat you perfectly considering the circumstances, and the doctor confirmed that you do have some sort of function left in your legs, and didn't look hopeless at all. But is it clear now that you'll be flown to London?”  
Ray hesitated and tried again to look at Bodie who gave him as stern a glance as his medication allowed.  
”Guess so, then. All right.”  
The neurosurgeon stepped in.  
”Ach, Dr Hammond, Doyle agrees to the transfer.”  
Hammond looked at Ray who confirmed. ”Good!” He peeked out from the door. ”Nurse Shannon! Start preparations for mr Doyle's transfer, he has to be ready at the doors in 45 minutes.” A quiet voice replied Aye and Hammond said he'd go immediately to phone the hospital and he vanished again.  
”Will you escort Ray to the hospital, sir?”  
Doyle snorted. ”Good lord Bodie, I don't need an escort there.” He seemed remarkably calm, to be Doyle. ”There will be people in that plane as it is and they probably plan to knock me out pretty soon after I get there, and maybe don't plan to wake me up for quite a few hours anyway. And most probably I won't be in the mood in seeing anyone for a couple of days after that.” He looked at his chief. ”Could you just make sure my things are safe? I don't need them with me there anyway.”  
Mr Cowley nodded. ”Aye, will do, lad. You seem to take all of this in your stride.”  
Doyle shut his eyes for a moment. ”Nah I think they doped me up to my eyeballs after those fucking injections... at least it's so hard to think straight and everything is kind of floating. But no use fretting, right? I think I did enough of that last night already. Just one thing, sir... I'd like to know how... how Bodie does. After they have operated him.”  
The Scot agreed. ”Aye, that will be arranged. Are there any others the two of you want to keep informed about your condition?”  
There was silence.  
Silence which pained the old Scot.  
”All right then... Bodie, the doctor said you wanted to have a word.”  
Bodie looked like he would pass out any minute but he struggled to focus. ”Yeah... I'd also like to know how Ray does. And... the Capri. It's being fixed... Dunno how long they keep me here... And our ammo... We left it to Jax... and yeah, Georgie.”  
There was a knock on the door and the head of the young PC peeked in. ”Am I disturbing you, sir? They said that the agents are here.”  
Bodie's head turned immediately. ”Come in, Duncan. Georgie?”  
The PC stepped in. ”At the vets, they started to give him fluids and put him in a cozy little cage to have a rest until tomorrow. They'll have a better look on his leg in the morning but at the moment he's doing ok. Even if he screamed at me three quarters of an hour in the car, and bit me every time I put my finger in the box. Feisty little chap. I told him I'll put him under arrest but he has no respect for police. Anyways, the vet said they'll take good care of him. Seemed to be a good place, they even have X-ray there, and I phone them in the morning so you'll get to know what's going on. I told them kitty was injured during a police-operation, maybe they give discount. Or then, they double the price.” Duncan winked an eye and managed to get the lads smile. ”Right, I think that covers the essential, I leave from disturbing you. Ray, Bodie, great to see you're being well looked after now. I'm keeping my fingers crossed everything goes fine from now on. Sir, I will ask if they hand me mr Doyle's luggage, I could take it into the car already as there's too much of it for the hospital. I wait for you in the corridor after that for further instructions. Is that all right with you, sir?” The Controller nodded and the constable said goodbye to the two agents, shaking their hands.  
Bodie looked after him. ”Nice lad.” He opened his mouth to say something, but then mumbled ”I forgot... my head aches.”  
Mr Cowley and Ray exchanged a worried look. ”Time they knock you out, Bodie. We talk later.” Mr Cowley walked to the door and called a nurse, and only a couple of minutes later Dr Hammond was giving orders of sedation.  
”See you later, mate.”  
Bodie tried to grin. ”See you, Ray. Take care and leave a nurse or two for me, hey?”  
A group of nurses came to prepare Ray for his move too and the Controller thought it would be best if he would get out from their way. ”Now, lads, I leave you to be taken care of. Don't worry about anything, just let these people do their jobs and everything will turn out just fine. Doyle, I will phone your hospital tomorrow and will keep you posted about Bodie and the kitten. Be good lads now, both of you.” He patted shoulders of both and Bodie let his eyes shut.  
”Doctor?” Dr Hammond came closer. ”How long do you expect the operation take?”  
The doctor shrugged. ”Hard to tell, it depends on what we find there. A few hours. You can leave a number we can call, or then call in the morning.” The Controller nodded and left the room.  
  
Duncan was nowhere to be seen, so the Scot sat down on a chair and watched both of his men being in their turns pushed along the corridor. He felt empty, knowing that there was absolutely nothing he could do for the two of them, nothing... only to trust the doctors.  
And to hope and pray.  
He was deep in his thoughts when PC Lennox returned. ”Hello, sir. Are they being treated now?”  
The Controller sighed. ”Doyle is being transported to London, he will be operated there tonight. A fractured vertebra and two slipped discs... at least. And Bodie has the haemorrhage, they took him to the theatre now. He started to get worse, I guess.”  
Duncan sat down. ”Och for heaven's sake...” He stole a peek at the older man who was rubbing his eyes, stood up again and went to talk something with a nurse, and left to a direction the nurse pointed to him. Duncan returned in a few minutes and sat on the edge of his chair. ”I called the station, don't need to bring the car there tonight. What about a bottle of beer and a wee bit of supper? My place is 10 minutes drive from here and there's a Chinese takeaway-place across the street. Nobody's died of food-poisoning for years, they tell me. At least you would have full stomach waiting. And there's a good sofa at my place if you want to have a nap before coming back here. I gave them my number, in case they need to reach you before you're back.”  
The Controller looked at him. ”That's very kind of you, lad. But you don't need to bother really, you can go now. It's all right, you have done even more than your share, and done well.”  
Duncan stood up. ”Nah, Sir, do come on. You're not supposed really to hear anything for at least two first hours anyway.  I know what it is to wait like this. And you get back here quickly enough.”  
Some momentary flicker in the lad's eyes told the older Scot that he really did know what it was to wait. He thought for a moment. ”All right then. This day has been sweet and sour anyway. I guess some rice and noodles fit in.” His smile was bleak but it was a smile anyway and he stood up. ”What made you think I would want to stay waiting?”  
Duncan shrugged. ”Well it just felt obvious. First turn to the right and we get out quicker...”  
  
It was almost midnight when Dr Hammond finally walked towards Mr Cowley who straightened in his chair. ”So far so good. We managed to stop the bleeding which was not heavy in itself but had been constant, and we managed to remove the clot, and when mr Bodie wakes up, we'll be wiser about his general neurological status. He'll be moved to intensive care, and will be monitored closely through the night. But everything went well as far as we can tell at the moment, and if there are no complications, he has every chance for a full recovery what comes to this trauma. His shoulder is another matter and the orthopedics will have a look at it later.”  
Mr Cowley sighed of relief. ”When can I see him?”  
The neurosurgeon shrugged. ”Morning should be ok, if everything goes fine. How perky he is then, that remains to be seen. It's best if you phone before coming, so the nurse can tell you when it's best time to visit  to get a chance to talk with a doctor. But now you can go and have some sleep in all peace and quiet, mr Bodie is stable and well looked after.” The doctor shook Controller's hand and left.  
The Scot heard a sound and turned. Duncan stretched and yawned. That lad really had Bodie's talent in sleeping. ”Sorry I fell asleep sir. Was that voice the doctor?” Constable pulled himself straight in the chair and started to look more awake.  
”Aye. Everything had gone well, he said.”  
Duncan smiled. ”Why that is good news! Now, do you wish I drive you to your hotel, and maybe fetch you tomorrow if you want to see the kitten and mr Bodie, or will you drop me at my place and drive yourself? Me Gramp is in here too, they operated his hip today.” He was already on his feet and stretching his back.  
The Controller couldn't help quipping. ”Has anyone ever told you that you are annoyingly energetic, constable?”  
The young man grinned. ”No, they usually leave it to that annoying. The ones that are civilized, I mean. For the rest I'm a pain in the ...  err... ”  
That made the older man laugh. ”All right, take me to the hotel”, he said finally. ”And then you go to bed too, lad, and without a bottle!”  
Duncan shuddered. ”No nay never no more, sir!”  
The older man chuckled. ”Good. But off we go now...” and so they did.  
  
  
  
Chapter 32  
  
They had agreed that Duncan would come to the hotel at ten. The Controller had decided to allow himself a longer sleep, and also he knew that it was better to wait until the morning rounds before contacting the hospitals. That was all right for Duncan, as he also had promised to call the vet-station.  
Duncan was waiting downstairs in the lobby, reading the morning paper when the older Scot arrived, and got on his feet immediately. ”Good morning, sir. You seem to be feeling better. I take it that there have been no setbacks with the agents then?”  
Mr Cowley was again astonished for the extremely quick perception the young man showed. ”Good morning, Lennox. Aye, no setbacks. They had just finished Doyle's operation, and he wasn't yet awake but the surgeon didn't sound too unhappy. They have removed the pressure against his spinal cord, and stabilized the spine. And Bodie has been awake on and off this morning, and had appeared quite lucid. They said it's all right to go see him. What about the smallest patient?”  
Lennox frowned. ”Not quite as good, I'm afraid, sir. They were not sure if they could save the leg. It's very badly fractured, and also the kitty is so young and small that it makes the operation even trickier. Besides, he refuses to eat and drink so they have needed to rehydrate him by injections. And the vets at the station are arguing whether to try to save the leg, or amputate it, or put the little one down. I told them that they are to do nothing before I call them again.”  
The Scot sighed. ”Dammit. Well, we talk with Bodie if he's perky enough. He is very fond of the kitten. But we'd better get going so that we catch the doctor.” Duncan nodded and they were on their way towards the main entrance.  
Duncan went to see his grandfather while mr Cowley waited to talk with the neurosurgeon who had met Bodie in the morning. The 20 minute wait felt at least two times longer, but when the doctor arrived, mr Cowley was happy to hear that Bodie would probably be moved to an ordinary room later during the day, and after a few days, if all went well, he could be moved to London. He knew his agent well enough to know that worry for Doyle wouldn't really subside before Bodie was nearer to his mate, and the same went with Doyle.  
Bodie's head was in heavy bandages when the Scot entered his room, his arm was in a sling, and the agent was sleeping. The monitors beeped around him, and the bruises on his face looked even more striking than before, against the white pillow and bandages, and it would take a while before the hair would grow back. Mr Cowley couldn't see if they had shaved the whole head or only around the wound, anyway the agent would look quite funny for a while. The Scot sighed again. The surgeon had said that what came to the head, Bodie could be in working condition in a few weeks, but there was now also the matter of the shoulder. But anyway, if Bodie recuperated decently from the head operation, the orthopedics would have a look at the shoulder in a couple of days and then they would be wiser. No use worrying before that. Or rather, no use worrying about that. There was enough to worry about as it was already.  
Like, what he would do about Doyle. The neurosurgeon he had talked with at NHNN was quite confident Doyle would eventually be able to walk if there came no complications, but even that would take physiotherapy and weeks of sick leave. Would he have use for an agent not able to return to the field, and even if he had, would Doyle agree to join the ”penpushers” he despised? He had been a good policeman, and despite his flaws, a very good agent, and it would be a shame to throw that experience away. But knowing Doyle's temper, his chief wondered whether it only would be torture to the agent, and everyone around him.  
But there would be time to talk with Doyle about it. Och... and with Bodie. If Doyle wouldn't be able to return to the field, what the hell would he do about Bodie if his shoulder would allow him to return to field duty? Bodie was ambidextrous so his chances were decent even if the other shoulder would need some operation. But to find him a new partner... good lord. That would be a project indeed, even if Bodie had mellowed.  
Maybe he should start thinking about the future on a larger scale.  
He sat down and let the agent sleep, there was no hurry as Lennox would anyway come to join them. For goodness' sake, Bodie had to be exhausted, after all that had happened and all he had done, and to top that, his skull had been opened. Even if they had considered it to be quite a routine operation, which it probably was in modern days, still the thought of somebody poking at somebody else's brain felt sickening. He hadn't asked whether there would be pains or headaches, but maybe he could trust them to keep Bodie – aye, both lads - relatively painless. He probably could fly to London this evening, and maybe could meet Doyle already in the evening, or then tomorrow morning. He should ask the hospitals whether it would be all right for the lads to have bedside telephones, so that they could talk with each other, when and if they were in condition to speak or listen. The two wouldn't be driving everybody around them crazy if they could keep each other up to date on what was happening and how they were doing. Once Doyle got his head clear, he most probably would be a pain in everyone's flesh anyway.  
And he could hardly be blamed for that.  
And then there also was the matter of the little cat. Georgie... The old Scot couldn't help a little smile. Och those two... damned busters. But something had to be done about the kitten too.... and the Controller stayed in his thoughts until he heard Bodie wail softly in his dream.  
”It's all right, lad... everything will be all right...” he spoke softly, until the agent calmed down in his sleep again. And neither of them knew about the pair of grey thoughtful eyes which quietly watched them through a corridor window for a long while, before PC Lennox finally decided to enter the room.  
  
A few minutes later a nurse popped in. ”Everything all right in here?” She went to check the drips and had a look at the monitors.  
”He did wail a little in his sleep, maybe he should have a wee bit more painkillers?”  
The nurse frowned a little. ”That is something I need to talk about with the head nurse. His dose is quite heavy already. But maybe he simply had a nightmare. It's best to look at the matter when he wakes up again.”  
And although they had spoken quietly, when the nurse was out from the door, as if on cue Bodie started to stir and move restlessly. ”Easy lad, take it easy... nothing to worry about. Easy now, Bodie. Stay put, lad.” The older Scot had stood up and he held gently but firmly Bodie's arms so that he couldn't accidentally pull out the IV.  
”Sir?” The agent fought his eye open.  
”Aye, lad. And young Duncan is here too. We came to see how you are doing.”  
Duncan, again startled by the use of his first name, moved their chairs to the bedside and they both sat down when Bodie was well awake. ”Good morning, agent Bodie. Still feeling groggy?”  
The agent managed something that did sound like yeah.  
”Me mom, she used to be that the first whole day after any op they did to her. You do look perkier. But then again, you are like four times her size.”  
Bodie managed to turn his head a little to try and focus on Duncan. ”Well you're the biggest half-midget I've ever seen.” His voice was hoarse, but yes, the corner of his mouth did make a little move upwards and Duncan smiled back at him and winked an eye.  
”Too bad that the inside of me skull hasn't grown in same proportions, at least that's what everybody keeps telling me.”  
The Controller felt extremely relieved to hear what resembled a chuckle. At least Bodie's head's inside seemed to be working, and Controller's fondness for the young Aberdeen copper only grew.  
”Now, Bodie, are you otherwise comfortable? Are you having pains?”  
Bodie had closed his eyes again and seemed to be very uncomfortable. ”Dunno... feeling weird... sick... or something.” Duncan was on his feet instantly and out of the door to fetch a nurse.  
”How's Ray?” Bodie again had forced his one eye open, the other one being swollen nearly closed.  
”I called the hospital in the morning, they had just finished his operation so he was still not awake. So far so good, and the surgeon seemed to think that if everything goes as he expects, Doyle should get back on his feet after rehabilitation.”  
Bodie's  face was very serious. ”On his feet... but will he make it to the field?”  
The Controller sighed. ”Lad, it's far too early to tell, you know that just as well as I do. Try to not worry too much about that yet. It will be a long road for him even to get back walking, you know that. But all we can do is to wait and take a day at the time, and try to keep his spirits up so that he'll make through the rehabilitation.”  
Bodie sighed. ”Yeah, even if he gets back walking, that's bloody marvellous.” Bodie closed his eye again, looking more peaceful.  
”Did you talk there at the house, you and Doyle? I mean, did you talk about the... damage?” For a moment the Controller wondered if Bodie had fallen asleep again.  
”Yeah... we did. About that and other things.” But before Bodie got to continue, Duncan returned with the nurse.  
She started to check on the patient, quickly testing his responses to both mental and physical stimulation, writing everything down. ”Are you in pain, mister Bodie? I can now give you a little more for the pain, but that would maybe make you feel more groggy and disoriented.”  
Bodie frowned. ”I can manage. Don't want to feel any sicker.”  
The nurse looked thoughtful, giving him a long pondering glance. ”Just don't be a macho then, and do ask for more if you start to hurt more. Do you need water or anything else?”  
Bodie moistened his lip instinctively. ”My mouth is dry, yeah.”  
The nurse fetched a glass, and when she returned and started to lift the end of the bed, Duncan carefully lifted and supported Bodie's upper body as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. The nurse arranged the pillows and gave Duncan a grateful smile before leaving the room.  
”Now listen Duncan, she's mine. Comes with the pills as Ray would say.” Bodie had noticed the smile.  
”Sorry Bodie, you'll be soon off to the ward and get new ones. Here, let me... take just a little at the time. Whoa, enough for now...” Duncan secured the glass when Bodie took greedy swallows through a straw. ”More in a few minutes. Better first make sure it stays inside you.” He seemed to be very experienced in taking care of patients, both mr Cowley and Bodie thought.  
”Oi Duncan, how's Georgie? They have treated his leg, right? And he's gonna be fine?”  
Duncan exchanged a quick look with the Controller. ”Och, aye, well, Bodie, they haven't yet decided what to do. We meant to talk with you about it so that I can let them know your opinion.”  
Bodie swallowed and stared at Duncan. ”My opinion, opinion on what?”  
The Controller quickly patted his shoulder. ”Bodie, they only want to know what they should do with the leg. You know already that the leg is very bad, and as he's so tiny it will be very tricky to try and set the bones. Also the operation itself is risky as he's so young and they need to be very careful with anaesthesia. So they need to know, whether they try to save the leg, or take it away?” Duncan noticed that the older man had conveniently forgotten the third alternative. ”You know, Bodie, cats do well with three legs. Even if he survived the operation to set the bones, they can't promise it would heal perfectly. And as said, it's somewhat risky to even sedate him.”  
Bodie closed his eye again and thought for a moment. ”Well they have to do something anyway, don't they? I don't know about cats. Can you talk with the vet, sir? I want Georgie to be happy and I trust you to be able to tell what is best for him.”  
The Controller definitely didn't need anything more on his mind, but he didn't have the heart to say that to Bodie – not now, not when the man was at the ITU still. ”All right, we go there once we are out from here. I talk with the vets. By the way, the little villain refuses to eat there. Looks like he's not happy with the service there and prefers your pampering.”  
Bodie gave a shy little grin.  
Duncan got an idea. ”Sir, what if we take there some piece of clothing with Bodie's scent in it? Maybe that would make him feel a bit better. Shirt or vest or something?” Bodie agreed immediately. ”I go and ask the nurses about Bodie's clothes and then go wait for you in the main lobby, sir. I'm sure you want to talk with mr Bodie in peace.” He said goodbye to Bodie and left the room.  
The two CI5s talked for a while about Bodie's condition and situation and the agent seemed to relax when things started to settle in his mind and his practical side took over.    
Mr Cowley offered him more water. ”You're in good hands here, lad, and things seem to be under control. I thought that I could leave for London today. I might be able to visit Doyle's hospital this evening, or tomorrow morning, if I catch some convenient flight.”  
Bodie looked delighted even under his bruises and swelling. ”That would be great, sir. Don't let me hold you up then, so that you have time to see Georgie too before you leave. But could you only arrange that I would get news from Ray and Georgie until I get the hell out of here?”  
The Scot patted Bodie's shoulder again. ”Aye, I'm sure I manage to arrange that. I suppose Lennox is on sick-leave for a couple of days more, and his grandfather is in this same hospital, so he maybe doesn't mind if he comes to update you on the kitten when he visits his grandfather. And you'll hear of Doyle also, unless I manage to arrange something else between the two of you.” After a few minutes he took his leave, and Bodie, his mind at ease, fell asleep again.  
  
  
  
Chapter 33  
  
”Ach, you can't be serious! Surely there is something you could do here!”  
The Controller was getting annoyed. Visit to behind the window of the room where Kennedy was kept had been depressing. The man had slid into deep unconsciousness, and all they could do was to wait and tend to the burns, wounds and broken bones the torturer had caused him, and try to keep him stable.  At least he wouldn't probably feel pain, and hopefully he wouldn't dream either. Or if he did, hopefully it would be of something else than the happenings of the last days...  
And now this.  
The short, middle-aged veterinarian was spreading his hands. ”I'm sorry, mister Cowley, but we simply do not have the means to operate on him safely. We have been talking about this the whole morning between ourselves, but the fact is that he is too small and too young for us. To try and repair that leg would take hours of work and we would probably kill him in the process anyway. To amputate could be a little less risky. And I know that you would get the same reply from every veterinarian in this city. If he was a few weeks older it would be a different matter. But he's maybe 6 or 7 weeks old and tiny and malnourished for that. We do not have a), a safe way to anaestethise him for hours, b), pins small enough to try and fix the fragments of bone with, and c), not really even a safe analgesic.”  
The Scot bounced on his feet. ”I do not have time or energy for this, doctor. I have two men at the  hospital here, one who won't leave the intensive care for weeks I suppose, if he even regains consciousness, and another whose damn skull was opened last night. And another in London with his spinal cord opened. And one soon to be buried here. This has definitely not been one of my best weeks. And now you are saying you can't fix some bloody broken bones?” His frustration was getting the better of him. ”Bloody hell, there has to be some solution. I want to fly to London today.”  
The veterinarian leaned back in his chair. ”Well that is the solution if you don't want to have him put down or amputated. Take the kitten with you. I can contact the RVC in London for you, The Royal Veterinary College. We can rehydrate him more, he manages the journey with a splint if he stays put, and give a tiny dose of sedative to calm him a little before the flight. I'm sure that with your authority you get permission to take him to the cabin without problems. It's not that long a flight.”    
”I'm not any damned cat-courier!” The Controller definitely sounded more like a growling dog.  
Duncan coughed, a little embarrassed. ”Why not first go see the kitty? You know, you could... well, kind of, err... estimate what he would look like without the leg. Or something.”  
The relieved veterinarian was already on his feet and the two men had no other chance than to follow him. ”This way, gentlemen.”  
On their way to the back room they learned that Georgie had been a less than perfect patient and nobody handled him without gloves. Tiny as his teeth and claws were, he used them with great enthusiasm. He didn't appear to be so much afraid than simply acting up, and none of the nurses had got him eat or drink after they had managed to get his leg x-rayed under slight sedation, so they had needed to give him fluids again. Duncan had given a vet nurse Bodie's dirty pullover already when they had come in, and they actually found the kitten snuggled under it. Georgie's cage was on the top row and there were dogs of all sorts, and a couple of cats under and both sides of him, and when an arm stretched to open the door of the cage, he already started to hiss and growl.  
”Och be quiet now, dummy.” The old Scot had gestured the vet to step aside. ”Don't you start at me. I do not take stupidities.” He grabbed the kitten inside the pullover and calmly took him out from the cage as he had seen a new splint. ”The trick, doctor, is diversion. Use one hand as decoy and grab with the other. That applies also to police-work, Lennox.” Mr Cowley had opened his coat and secured the kitten against his chest, also offering for sniffing the hand he had touched Bodie with. He didn't know if the kitten would remember him from his scent, or how it would react even if it did, but there was no harm in trying. ”Rugged little skinny creature... You've been a naughty lad. Stop biting people, eh? Use your energy to heal and stop being silly. One Doyle is enough.” He spoke to the kitten quietly, as he had done at the house, and after a moment he felt a slight push against the hand he had offered for checking. ”My lads want you to grow up to a big bulky tomcat with a harem of a hundred and that won't happen unless you behave.” Georgie purred apologetically and gnawed gently at his finger, rubbing his face against the hand.  
”Och dear... What are we to do with you, laddie?”  
The Scot lifted the kitten back inside his cage, where it sat sloping, still rubbing his hand and purring. He noticed a little bowl with fresh catfood, and the tabby contently ate litte bits he offered from his fingers. ”Well as you can behave, why not behaving also for the good doctors? Hm?” The cat would do well with three legs. That maybe was the best solution. The lads wouldn't like it, but... The kitten had fallen on his side, and held his hand gently with his one paw, purring and licking his hand. He pulled his hand away quietly and closed the door of the cage, turning away. ”Come on Lennox, let's find that veterinarian again.” On their way to the door, he heard inquiring little meows which turned into alarmed.  
The Scot sighed and halted at the door. ”Wait a moment, Lennox.” He turned back and took his gloves out of his pockets, and walked to the cage, opening the door. ”Here you are.” His leather gloves were placed beside Bodie's pullover. ”And don't rip them in the meanwhile. I want them to be usable when I come back.”  
Duncan was becoming quite good in hiding his smiles.  
  
  
  
Chapter 34  
  
He was in a plane, faces floating around him. In a plane.  
The Scottish doctor had a brown face and he talked like an Indian. No Bodie in sight.  
He couldn't move. And the pain shot right through him, making him whimper.  
Mr Doyle, There's nothing to worry about. You have been stabilized to hinder you from moving. Can you move your toes for me, mr Doyle? Talk talk talk, they had forgotten Georgie into the car and Ray was burning. Mr Doyle, please, can you move your toes for me? How the fuck could he move his toes burning in the river? He proved he couldn't move them. Ah... as if I saw something. Mr Doyle, mr Doyle, hello, I'm doctor... but Ray only heard his own wail. Nothing to worry about, mr Doyle. You are getting more morphine, a couple of minutes only and...  
Ray was already sliding back into  cabin. Bodie was there.  
  
In and out, in and out. Faces emerged when he hurt too much to breathe and there was talk about toes. He was in the car, he was in the chopper, he was in the barrow but Bodie wasn't there. He needed to tell Bodie. About... toes. It didn't make sense. Georgie needed his toes but why were they talking to him about it? He would bloody show some toes. But he needed to find Bodie. He needed to have a pee. ”Bodie... I need cath... catheter... someone tell Bodie...” Whispers around him. Who is Bodie? Not from this hospital. But give the shot now.  
An elderly woman's face floated close. Now, Mr Doyle, close your eyes. Close your eyes for me, will you? Bodie is waiting. Close your eyes and Bodie is there. That didn't make sense. Close your eyes, Bodie is ready waiting. Just let go... Ah, of course, he's still in the cabin. There are others too, whispering, but they keep out of sight. Good. No need for audience. Yes it looks it's functioning. He doesn't feel the tube but he felt the bladder. Or then he's still back there.  
Better there than here.  
  
In and out... from weird visions to burning which made him wail. Light had changed and some part of his mind said it must be evening. Faces kept floating but he didn't recognize any of them, or the voices. He couldn't move, he must have been paralysed totally, but if he was, why did he hurt so much? The elderly woman came again, talked something and left.  
”Nurse?” Some image started to come clearer. Plane, ambulance, doors. The woman returned to sight. ”Is this London?”  
The woman smiled. ”Yes, mr Doyle. You're in London.”  
Pain made him whimper again. ”Why... I burn?”  
The woman was wiping his brow. ”We've just administered more morphine, mr Doyle. Your spine has been operated, that's why you hurt. We try to keep you as comfortable as possible, but at times the influence wears off. Only a moment, mr Doyle, and you'll be more comfortable again. We got a phonecall, mr Doyle. They asked us to tell you, that mr Bodie has been in surgery last night and everything looks fine with him. But try and breathe now, only a moment...”  
She stayed with him until he slid off again.  
Bodie.  
  
There were voices again. Voices without faces. Darkness, of course, those voices were outside the cabin. He's not completely lucid, it's the morphine. But when he comes better around, he knows where he is. Unfortunately also he hurts then. This worst phase is maybe two-three days, we keep him under as well as we can with morphine and other heavy medication but we have to allow him wake up every now and then, to be able to monitor his neurological status. A quiet voice. Don't be alarmed, that is only to keep the spine immobilized. For the first couple of weeks. Standard procedure. Looks ghastly but really a standard procedure in these operations.  
That quiet voice again... he knew that voice. He forced his eyes open.    
”Sir?”  
Only a few minutes, please. You are already past the visiting hours.  
”Yes yes, I understand that, doctor.”  
He knew the face which came to view. ”Hello Doyle.”  
He had to close his eyes for a moment. ”I burn sometimes, sir.” There was a hand on his brow.  
It's the pain, probably.  
”Ach, yes, he's only mildly warm. You can go now, doctor.”  
”What are they going to do to you, sir?”  
The Controller blinked a couple of times. Doyle was really incoherent. ”Do to me? What do you mean?”  
Ray tried to focus. ”But this is a hospital, innit?”  
The Scot got it. ”Och... aye, this is a hospital. But they are not going to do anything to me. At least I certainly hope so. I only came to see how you are doing, Doyle.”  
A blink of understanding.  
”I can't... move.”  
The older man sighed. ”They have put you into a kind of... well, cast. Half-cast. Sort of. That is why you can't move, Doyle. They don't want you to move for a while.”  
Ray forced his eyes open again. The face was still with the voice. ”Nurse... something about Bodie. She said.” It was so hard to concentrate.  
”Bodie is doing fine, Doyle. He has a turban, very handsome with his black and blue face. They fixed his head, there's nothing to worry about it now.”  
Image of Bodie and turban made Ray frown. ”Why turban? He's not going to Asia?”  
The Controller chuckled. ”Ach... no, he's not going to Asia. He has a bandage round his head. He will stay in the hospital in Aberdeen for a few days more, and then he comes to London. I arrange him to see you then.”  
Ray shut his eyes again to concentrate. ”What...” He frowned, when the thought slipped from his grasp. ”Everything floats, sir.” His expression was apologetic.  
”It's all right, sonny. It is all right. It's the drugs they give you to keep you from hurting too much. Don't worry, lad, a few bad days and then it starts to get less bad. Everything is going to be just fine, eventually...”, the Scot sighed, ”some day.”  
Ray remembered now. ”What about Georgie? He needs his toes.” The burning was returning.  
”He is keeping his toes if all goes well, along with the rest of his extremities. He is in London, actually. At the posh Royal Veterinary College. I brought him to London with me because the vets up there were not able to treat him. His leg is a bit of an jigsaw puzzle, and the vets are putting it together as we speak.”  
Doyle was starting to breathe shallower, and mr Cowley frowned seeing that.  
”Now, lad, don't you worry. Bodie is going to be fine, and I arrange him here as soon as possible, and Geo... the kitten is going to be just fine he too. Now you try to relax, sonny, just relax... things are going to be fine for you too.” The Scot found the call button and pressed it, moving aside to let the nurse take care of Doyle, and waited at the bedside until his pained agent had calmed down to sleep again, before he himself finally headed towards his own apartment for the night.    
  
He couldn't tell the time. He was in and out of the cabin, where Bodie was, and in and out with the floating faces. He didn't know what he wanted more, to be away facing his strange and often scary dreams, or to be lucid, but hurting like he had a pyre inside of himself. But the moments between the worst incoherece and the pyre were gradually becoming longer, maybe not minute by minute but at least second by second, and he started to sometimes recognize some faces and voices; the Indian-looking doctor whose name was something unintelligible, an older grey-haired, Asian-looking doctor, the nurse who reminded him of Mary Poppins, and the older nurse who talked to him. To see any of those faces was a relief as it meant that the burn would soon subside. And... Larry?  
”How... ”  
The old man smiled – feebly, but nevertheless. Despite his own experiences, seeing Ray this way had shocked him. ”Hello Ray. You know, I really would appreciate if you would try to keep out of these places.”  
Ray tried to focus. ”How are you here?” He still wasn't sure if he was dreaming or awake.  
”Well, I got a phonecall from a young man who had a most hilarious Scottish accent, he called on behalf of Bodie. I have nothing but time nowadays, so I thought I might come and read my paper here just as well, your chief arranged me the permission to come here. Nurses told me to call them when your medication starts to wear off. And that young Highland lad asked me to tell you that Bodie is doing fine, and is starting gradually to annoy the doctors, which is always a good sign. But now, as you probably are in no mood for longer chats, do I start from politics, economy or sports, or boringly from the front page?”  
They settled for the front page, and actually they reached page three before the old gardener needed to call in a nurse for another shot. And when Ray went under again, he was having a dispute with Bodie about their bill on ban on firearms in the House of Commons.  
  
  
  
Chapter 35  
  
Buzz. Ach, it was Betty, of course. George Cowley had been so deep in his thoughts, wrestling with cares of the day, that it took a moment before he remembered his trusted secretary. Mr Cowley pressed the button. ”Sir, a Harold Jackson on line two. He says he calls from something called RVC?” Betty sounded baffled.  
”Och, aye, aye. Put him through, thank you. And when Jax arrives, ask him to wait there until I've finished with Jackson, Jax should be here any minute.” He checked the time. ”And please make a call to Aberdeen and ask for an update on Bodie and Kennedy. You might get a doctor on line if you do it now, or ask them to call back if you don't get a hold on anyone. I'll be damned occupied until the bloody afternoon.”  
He cut the connection and picked up the veterinarian. ”Yes it's George Cowley here. Any luck with that jigsaw puzzle?” Mr Cowley sighed of relief hearing that the kitten had survived the operation, although barely; he had already tried to bite a nurse though, so he hadn't lost his spirit. And nobody was allowed to take away the gloves or the pullover. ”Then let him have those, for goodness' sake.”  
After the phonecall the Contoller sat a moment rubbing his brow. Bloody hell. When things finally started to get on track, he would use two days for sleeping. Or three. The past week already felt like a year, and he couldn't still breathe freely unless at least some of these patients would get on their feet. Now there was a knock on the door and Jax peeked in. ”Right, come in, come in, and close the door, will you. Bloody mess we're in, Jax...” and the two de-briefed each other on the latest happenings and started to plan the nearest future.  
  
There was knock also on Bodie's room's door. Duncan peeked in. ”Good morning, Bodie. Now, the bloody irritating how are we doing today?”  
Bodie grimaced. ”If you ever ask me that again, I'll kick your arse when I get up from here.”  
Duncan grinned. ”That already sounds promising. Now, first things first, eh? Yesterday evening I got hold on that Larry you talked about, and he promised he'll start seeing Ray as soon as he gets the permission from the medics. Your chief called late last night, and when I told him about Larry, he said he'll call the hospital first thing this morning to try and arrange that. And when Ray starts to be in a chatting condition he tries to arrange you get to talk with him. Mr Cowley had been in the hospital yesterday evening and he said that the doctors were still happy with the operation, but they try to keep Ray under heavy sedation for most of the time as they had removed the bits of broken... eh, whatsit, discs, and he has metal plates and screws stabilizing his spine. That did sound bloody awful, especially as they had put some kind of thingie around the man to keep him totally immobilized for the first couple of weeks. Anyway, mr Cowley had talked a little with Ray, and said that he had been quite incoherent at first, but once his head had cleared out a bit he had been asking about you and Georgie. Oh and Georgie, he has been operated now. Mr Cowley didn't yet know the outcome yesterday but will let you know as soon as possible. Actually, Georgie is also in London. The vets here chickened out as they thought they would pretty much kill the little beast, who had been biting and scraping them, but your chief took him to London with him as they thought the Royal Veterinary College could succeed with the leg.”  
After his report, the young Scot sat down. The dark-haired agent looked dark indeed, and Duncan couldn't blame him. He know the man was more worried over his buddy than about himself. ”Try not to worry, Bodie. I have a good feeling about this. I mean, I am positive you all will pull through and even Ray will get well back on his feet again. It will take him hell of a lot of guts and stamina, but he has that all right. As do you. And you can loan him some once you get there.”  
Bodie carefully turned his head to look at the lad. ”You're a positive one, aren't you?”  
Duncan shrugged and turned his face away for a moment. ”Not really. Not about everything.” He looked back at Bodie. ”But about this I'm sure.” He tilted his head. ”Hey, the swelling seems to be disappearing. You might even be able to open your other eye tomorrow. Now, I thought I could use a couple of hours with you before going to see that other agent, Kennedy, took a couple of books with me, I can read you if you want. Descent from Xanadu by Harold Robbins, or Teheran by Ken Follett?”  
Bodie had to smile. ”Robbins of course. But how's your grandfather doing?” He listened for a while to a merry narrative on the old man's effort to drive his doctors crazy. Good lad, this youngster. Made you relax. Hopefully Larry would get through to Ray the same way...  
Bodie tried to breathe away his anxiety. Ray was recuperating. Ray was safe. And one of these days he would be there to see that for himself.  
He needed to get there.  
  
  
  
Chapter 36  
  
Mr Doyle? It was the talking nurse floating in. Hello mr Doyle. Would you please move your toes for me? He still couldn't understand why... the face floated again towards him, smiling. Well done, mr Doyle. Well done! Now, if all goes well, tomorrow we will start weaning you from morphine. And you will start feeling more normal. What was that, normal? What was it to feel normal? And what was well done? He hadn't had a steak for ages, didn't they know that?  
But a little voice in his mind said that he had been told something good. That something was... good. God how hard it was to concentrate. Had Larry been here today? He remembered Larry talking about box plants. But was it today or last... year?  
Ray forced himself to focus on the face and make it stay put and stop floating for a moment.  
”Tomorrow?” He didn't recognize his own voice.  
The face smiled again.  
”What is your name?” Faces needed names.  
”Martha. Martha Newton. Like gravity.” Funny enough, that made it perfectly clear. ”And yes, it is three days from your operation and the doctors think tomorrow we could start let you be more awake.”  
He knew it was good news, but also it frightened him.  
The nurse saw and understood the change in his eyes. She sat beside her and touched his hand. ”Don't worry, mr Doyle. The healing in your back is starting and so far everything has gone just fine. When we quit with your morphine, there may be a couple of worse days, but from that on the plan is, that every day is less bad than the day before, and your head will be clearer. Do you understand what I am telling you, mr Doyle?”  
It was different from the same question in an interrogation room. Or when he had shouted at mister Cowley. Ray blinked a couple of times. ”You ask it nicely.”  
The nurse was a little baffled.  
”When I ask it I shout. Most often.”  
Nurse Newton frowned a little, then rshe emembered the man was said to be a police of some kind and undertood what the patient was referring to. ”Oh. Shouting is not allowed here. Unfortunately. But did you understand what I was telling you?”  
Ray had to think, to remember. ”Yes. You start to clear my head. And I may hurt. More. But it will be all right, won't it? Later?”  
Fear had returned to his eyes and the nurse took a good grip on his hand. ”It will be all right, mr Doyle. Believe me, I know. And do you know why I know?”  
She was smiling again and Ray thought that she had a young smile. ”Tell me.”  
Her smile got broader. ”Because, mr Doyle, I just saw your toes stir. Wiggle, mr Doyle. Your toes move well and proper.” Martha started to wipe his bare skin clean, taking her time with it, and finished it by drying the patient's face.  
  
When she, a few minutes later, in the corridor saw the older man she knew to be mr Doyle's boss, she took him aside to a quiet corner. Doyle would maybe have said that his smile was young too. At least it was definitely extremely relieved - and a moment later, embarrassed, as there was a little move under his long coat and the nurse's eyes narrowed. But when she had a peek and listened to short whispered explanations given with remarkably pleading eyes, she sighed and shook her head. ”Fifteen minutes. No more than that, as he is going to need his next shot soon and there will be others in the room also that time.”  
A minute later a thin and fragile-looking tiny tabby with a splint and partially shaven hair, pushed, purring, his head against Ray Doyle's chin.  
  
And two hours later in Aberdeen, a young PC remembered he had forgotten his books in his car after telling the agent the latest news from London, and he took his time fetching the books. Duncan felt like smiling at the whole world, although he understood that the agent he left his head turned away and eyes tightly squeezed shut, might need a minute before he would manage that.  
  
At the same time back in London, two very serious pairs of eyes were watching each other; one pair of blue sitting on a chair, the other, gray-golden, on the kitchen table, noses only a few inches apart.  
”One: I do not take any of that not-eating-business. Two: Stick to litter-boxes. Three: My pillow is mine, not yours. Four: You bite and scratch only people I don't like. Five:Tables are restricted area unless I lift you. Is that clear?” The tabby blinked and licked his lips. ”So you agree at least with number one. That's a start. And your name here is Churchill. I'm not going to start talking to myself.” The Scot suddenly realised what he had said and bursted out laughing. ”Oh Lord Almighty, those two drive me crazy... as do you, eh little one?” He stretched his hand and the kitten started to purr and brush his face against it, gnawing and licking gently his fingers. ”If you are a good wee lad and eat now a little, there may be grounds to negotiating about that pillow later.”  
The kitten who hurt but felt safe nevertheless, rose swaying on his feet to greet the saucer coming towards him.  
  
  
  
Chapter 37  
  
Dr Hammond was looking content. There was some weakness in Bodie's hands, but that could of course also be due to the man's other injuries. The patient was able to walk short distances almost without support, his pupils reacted normally to light in both his eyes, he didn't seem to have any problems with his vision, and claimed his senses functioned normally and his headache was staying tolerable. Heart-rate had returned to almost normal, bloodpressure still was a little low. Right.  
”Now, Mr Bodie, you will be taken to new scans later today. If they show no new signs of the bleeding, and show healing  has started, and, if your wound looks neat and the blood-tests show no major problems in your kidneys and liver, we can start planning your move to London tomorrow or the day after. So you'd better stay put and do exactly as you're told, so that nobody gets excited. Head nurse Morris does not like being called birdie, by the way. You'd better stop doing that in case she decides to put something intraceable into your meal to keep you here a little longer.”  
Somehow Bodie was not able to decide whether the man was serious or joking. These Scots seemed to be a race of their own... well, he should have known that already. ”Can I fly already?”  
The neurosurgeon shook his head. ”Better safe than sorry, we arrange your move by an ambulance. It takes a few hours longer, but there's no need to worry about the changes in pressure. There is another patient of ours in London who can be transferred here in a day or two so she'll be stepping in from London then. Anyway, so far so good. The nurse will come to tell you when you get to be scanned. And please do try to behave a little longer? I need to live with these people, you know.” The doctor got on his feet to leave and again Bodie didn't know whether the man was joking or not.  
But better safe than sorry as the doc had said, it would be only a day or two now, he would survive... Gosh, that reminded him. ”Doctor... do you know how agent Kennedy is doing? I know he had been unconscious still yesterday. Is there any hope for him?”  
The neurosurgeon stopped. ”I saw him this morning, it looks like he has surfaced a little. But there's nothing else I can say before he regains consciousness - if he does that. I'm sorry, but so it is. Anyway, if anything drastic happens, you'll be told.” He raised his hand to greeting and vanished from the door, leaving Bodie wondering about life and luck, and trying to rein his impatience.  
  
”Oi, Ray... don't you worry. These people know what they are doing.” Larry's voice was calming. ”They won't stop giving you the morphine and leave you there. You know that, don't you? They only start to wean you out little by little. And you haven't been using it too long.” Lucidity could be a problem in itself, especially for someone who had dealt with drugs and seen dozens, hundreds of junkies from all levels of society. ”And they will use other medicine to keep the pain away.”  
Ray had been told that all already – had he? Somewhere between floating faces. But Larry's voice was different. He had heard it before. It was like a mooring post. ”Georgie was here last year... no... last...”  
Larry was perplexed. ”Who?”  
Ray tried to concentrate. ”Georgie. They had fixed his front paw.”  
One of the older nurses popped in and smiled at Larry before turning her attention to Ray. ”Hello again mr Doyle. Is Georgie the little kitten I saw yesterday?”  
She floated close enough for Ray to recognize and remember. ”Martha.” He tried to smile. ”Bodie made the first splint to Georgie. Cardboard. Duct tape. And Bodie... Bodie did...” the line of thought vanished.  
”Bodie is his partner at work. He had been in the same accident.” Larry enlightened the nurse.  
”Oh, now I understand. This Bodie had taken care of mr Doyle before they had been taken to hospital?”  
Larry nodded. ”From the evening of the accident to the afternoon of the next day as they hadn't been able to call for help, that's what I was told. Bodie had moved Ray out from their car and into a cottage, managed to keep him immobilized, medicated him and so forth.”  
Ray remembered again. ”Bodie used the catheter. And kept me warm.”  
The nurse smiled, hearing the pride in her patient's voice. ”Well it will be interesting to meet him. He will certainly come to meet you, mr Doyle.”  
Ray chuckled. ”He has a turban.”  
That made the nurse blink. ”A what?”  
Larry understood. ”Oh, Ray probably means that his head is bandaged. Bodie is in hospital in Aberdeen, he had had a haemorrhage in his brain, I suppose, and they operated him there.”  
The nurse shook her head but smiled. ”Unlucky men these, eh?”  
Larry returned the smile. ”Unlucky or lucky, many others would have died at their place, looks like.”  
Ray tried again get a grip of his thoughts. ”Morphine?”  
The nurse sighed. ”Yes mr Doyle, what about it?” The man didn't look too pained to her.  
”Oh Ray worries about it. He told me once he had worked in drug-squad so he maybe has seen too much.”  
Ray was thankful, Larry had said it to the point. It was so hard to keep his head together.  
The nurse took his hand again. ”Mr Doyle, do you remember what we talked about it earlier? You do not need to worry. We will look after you. We only give you a little less of it during the day, and you get other medication to take care of the pain. Do you remember?”  
Her hand  was reassuring.  
”Little by little.Trust me mr Doyle, everything will be all right.”  
Ray squeezed her fingers. ”All right.”  
The nurse smiled at him another young smile. ”Now, give me a good start to my shift and move your toes for me, mr Doyle.”  
And again, she saw them twitch, in both feet, and the movement was clearer than the day before,  Larry saw that too, and smiled from ear to ear. ”Dammit, Ray, your toes really move! I saw them move!”  
And somehow, to hear that from Larry, it made Ray smile the broadest smile the nurse had seen. Burning was already just behind the corner, but Ray didn't care. ”Read me another page, Larry. Another page before burning.”  
The nurse looked at the curly-haired man closely. ”Right, I will leave you to your paper. Let me know when we're needed.” The older man nodded, and the patient blinked. ”And mr Doyle. Do. Not. Worry. Remember?” The poor man would have worries enough the coming weeks. And pains.  
”I remember, Martha. Something.”  
The nurse had to smile. ”Fair enough. But we talk later. Bye now.” When she left the room, Larry was asking if they could move to the sports-pages.  
  
Late in the afternoon, two Scots were again having a quiet talk. ”Stephen did not like your growling and hissing at him. You'd better not do that to Betty tomorrow when she comes to give you your lunch. But at least you had the sense to eat the lunch today. You are a little pest and a bother, aren't you?” The purring bother seemed to sit more stable and the man surprised the tiny animal and quickly pushed the piece of the antibiotic into his throat. Then he quickly offered the kitten his meal, which was heavily frowned upon due to the surprise attack. But hunger won humiliation, and the couple of tea-spoon fulls vanished soon. Mr Cowley would give a little more in the next meal in a couple of hours, no use to upset the kitten's tummy as he also needed the medication.  
When the kitten had finished with the saucer, the Controller proved not all men had tubular brain, and while enjoying his own tea, he read papers he had taken with him from the office, and dipped his free hand's forefinger every now and again into a cup of water, letting the kitten drink drop by drop. But as he was deep in his thoughts and the service got half-hearted due to another memo from Home Office, all of a sudden he noticed that the kitten was standing on all three beside the old cup he had chosen for the water, licking the water from the cup all by himself. Smiling he waited until tabby had finished, to not disturb this milestone.  
”Good boy, Churchill. You stick to water though, no malt for you.” After graciously accepting some stroking and cuddling, the kitten tried to start washing his ears and face and it seemed so tricky the smiling Scot thought the feline had to be originally right-handed... err, -pawed. But he would certainly learn to be ambidextrous after Bodie. Mr Cowley took the pile of papers and the kitten, and moved them to his living-room, deciding to continue reading on a sofa. Half an hour later he had fallen asleep, the kitten curled safely in the perfect space between his neck, shoulder, and the rests of the sofa.  
  
  
  
Chapter 38  
  
His heart was racing. He had needed to negotiate for a quarter of an hour with a nurse to be allowed to get into the other end of the building, the bloody quacks had seen him sway when they tested him in the morning and they had immediately booked some bloody new scans for him. But he had finally been able to talk over the nurse and one of the doctors to let him go see Ray before they would spoil the rest of his day. He had arrived too late the evening before, but had managed to coax one of the nurses to find out more of how Ray was doing, and he had been relieved to know that at least there had been no setbacks during the day although it looked like the weaning off morphine would not be that easy.  
”Right, mr Bodie. Not long now.” And to be bloody forced to sit in this bloody wheelchair... yet as it had been the ultimatum, he had yielded to it. At least he would rather had had Duncan with him, not this cold bitch for a nurse. Even that Morris-woman in Aberdeen had been somewhat human compared to this ice-berg. Duncan had almost died laughing when escorting Bodie to the ambulance he had heard Bodie say that they should fasten a plate on top of the ward door saying ”This is the realm of the Famous Grouse”. Making sure that the head nurse was within the hearing range, of course.  
Good kid, that Duncan. Bodie had been moved when he had realised that the boy also used some time daily with Kennedy, reading to him. When he had asked Duncan about it, the young copper had said that even in coma or unconsciousness people still might hear what was happening around them, and should not be left totally alone. Bodie hadn't ask more, seeing the way the lad had turned his face away for a moment, before straightening up and merrily declaring that he didn't have much else to do anyway because of the bastardly weather keeping him off the cliffs, and because his Gramp still was in the same hospital it was no trouble at all to extend the visits. Yeah, and Bodie had to admit the Robbins-book would have been hell of a lot more boring unless being read with that rolling Scottish accent, especially the sex scenes which made the young man blush in a most hilarious manner.  
Thank goodness for that kid, Bodie would have gone mad as a hatter there without him. He had even given the lad his private phone number and told him to take contact if ever there was anything where he could lend a hand, or if Duncan would want to come spend a few days in the civilized world.  
Bodie returned to the present day. ”There you are, mr Bodie. An hour and a half, not a minute more, and you'll be fetched from here unless the ward nurses bring you back earlier.”  
The nurse escorting him moved forward to open the door and Bodie heard his own pulse throbbing in his ears.  
”And stay put, if I hear a whisper that you've been out and about outside this room, you'll be in trouble.”  
Whatever the name he would invent for this woman, he'd better make sure it wouldn't get into her ears before he was out of the bloody place. Like Mather, but with needles and stuff.  
Yet, all that vanished from Bodie's mind when he was finally pushed into the room and saw the curly head against the white of a pillow, seemingly asleep. Bodie gasped.  
The nurse parked his chair close to the bed. ”It's only the cask for keeping him immobilized, for the next week or so. Nothing to be worried about. Don't agitate him, and try not to wear him out too much. And call for a nurse if he gets too uncomfortable.”  
Some women were able to sound like sergeants even when whispering but at least she took her leave right away.  
Bodie watched his mate, forgetting all about his own pains and injuries. Ray was pale, deadly pale, and even thinner than before, still wearing support also around his neck. His eyes were moving under his lids, and Bodie couldn't help but stretch his mobile arm and touch his mate's hand. A second later the green eyes opened.  
”Good morning, Sunshine.”  
It took a moment before the eyes focused on his. ”Took a turn to worse immediately, Frankenstein.”  
Ray's eyes were shut again, but his fingers locked around Bodie's as tight as the IV attached to the vein in the back of his hand allowed.  
  
  
  
Chapter 39  
  
Two days.  
Two days until they would remove the support.  
48 hours until the moment he would have to face reality. Until the moment Ray Doyle would be responsible for his recovery. For his life.  
He knew that it would come down to that. Eventually. The bottom line being, whether he would be strong enough to fight his way through to mobility. If he lost his guts, the quacks wouldn't be able to do anything. It was as simple as that.  
Suddenly the past days, all the pain, the gradually fading disorientation, nurses, needles, Larry, even Bodie, lost their meaning. Ray Doyle squeezed his eyes shut.  
”Two days?”  
He heard a chair being moved but he missed seeing a pair of blue eyes filled with compassion. Poor lad. No wonder if he doesn't sleep a bit from this on. He understands.  
”I wouldn't worry too much if I were you, mr Doyle.” Ray had never learned to put in order all the multiple syllables in that Sri Lankan doctor's name, and his bubbling accent had suddenly lost all it's ridiculousness, sounding just as amusing as an executioner. ”You have regained feeling in your feet as far as we can tell and there are no indications of infection. Of course the removal of the support will cause some discomfort as you have been immobilized for so long, a fortnight by then; it will take a while before your body adjusts to the lack of support again. Luckily you have some of very important assets working for your benefit, mr Doyle. You had a very good muscle tonus to begin with, which gives support of its own although you have naturally lost some of it by now. Also, you are not obese, which spares your spine from excessive strain. And, we are prepared to medicate you according to your needs. Anyway, mr Doyle, only after the support is gone we will be fully aware of the real situation concerning your spine, neurological status of your lower part, and the success of the operation. And also, only after the support is gone, we will be able to start rehabilitating you and start working for your mobility.”  
That sounded so easy. We will be able... Ray felt gentle patting on his upper arm and tried to breathe evenly. The hand gave a little squeeze and stayed. Blessed Martha. Her reassuring voice continued from where the doctor stopped. ”And also, according to your friends, you have had very good motoric skills. That also is an asset, even despite the fact that you will practically need to learn to walk again and start from scratches, so to speak, because it's always easier to try and reach something that you have had before, than something you've never had to begin with. Also, even injury-wise your starting point was considerably better than of many of our patients here, due to luck and to the brainy action of your friend.”  
Martha's voice came from wrong direction and opening his eyes, to his surprise Ray realised that the reassuring touch came from his superior who had taken a seat by his bedside.  
The old Scot's eyes were serene but met his without hesitation. ”Aye, and this man is so damn stubborn and such a bloody heckler, that if he uses even half of the energy he tends to spend to get up my and everybody else's nose, to the rehabilitation, he'll be on his feet all right.”  
He gave another little squeeze and Ray noticed a little smile from Martha, directed at both of them. ”Is that so? Mr Doyle has been such a good patient to me.”  
Scot's eyebrow was very high. ”Really? That is dreadfully worrying, nurse Newton. Or then I want to get hold on that medicine you've given him, I certainly would have use for that.” The nurse's laughter invited a faint smile to Ray's lips and that in turn made the older man smile, and even the doctor gave an insecure little chuckle.  
The neurosurgeon and the nurse left shortly after, and Ray was left alone with his chief. ”I wish they hadn't said anything in advance.”  
Mr Cowley understood his agent completely, and rose to get him some water to drink. ”Aye, maybe that would have been better for you. If I were in your place, Doyle, I would be hanging from my nails now.”  
Ray blinked his eyes a few times, astonished by the unexpected confession, to the point that he almost missed the offered drink.  
”But the doctor was in his own opinion only giving you very good news. He is such a young man that he maybe is not quite able to relate to your situation. He knows all about nerves, reflexes, impulses and muscles I'm sure, but maybe not that much about the mind which is supposed to make them function at will.” The again seated Controller took a deep breath, and tried to push memories away. ”Anyway, as they say, your starting point was not that bad. And you don't need to worry about expenses, your rehabilitation will be fully covered even if services beyond NHS are needed. As will be Bodie's. They have operated on his shoulder this morning, and he'll probably be able to visit you in a couple of days again.”  
Ray frowned. ”I don't understand, Sir. The accident happened on our free time, and at least my accident insurance has some roof for the medical expenses.”  
His superior hemmed. ”What's the point of having all the responsibility, unless some power comes with it? I used a wee bit of creativity in my report, and pushed your compensations through the CI5 insurances, to make sure you both receive all the medical attention you may need.”  
That left his agent stunned. ”But sir...”  
The Scot gestured with his hand in an annoyed way. ”Och the bloody small prints the doctors have been trying to shove down my throat, I got tired of those. For once I can not blame you for your mishaps, so I decided it would be unfair to both the two of you and the CI5 if you couldn't get all the possible help to get you back on your feet. It's the damn car which will cause most problems actually, but that's nothing we couldn't fix with a little bit of further creativity. Anyway, I am not going to let go of you two only because of some potentially inadequate compensation or service. But...” he gave his agent a long look, ”... there's only so much money can do.”  
Doyle averted his gaze for a while before meeting it. The Scot leaned against the back-rest of his chair and all that Ray could detect of him was calm, not a trace of pity. Although, come to think of it, he never had witnessed pity from his chief, not towards himself, neither towards others. Occasional glimpses of compassion, yes, but not the condescending pity.  
”You have made it once before, Doyle. You may have your doubts at the moment, and good Lord, that is more than understandable, but I have every faith in you that you will make it again. And believe me, man, there are not many of whom I would say that.”  
The steady gaze from the eyes which were not quite as deep blue as Bodie's, but somehow still resembling them, felt like the hand touching Ray's upper arm.  
  
  
  
Chapter 40  
  
Cold sweat and tears ran down his face and his whole being was shaking.  
”Breathe now, mr Doyle... Ray. Everything is all right. You're there, Ray.”  
The absurdity of that last sentence made the curly-haired agent whine as that was the only sound he got out of himself. There. Bloody hell, on his left side. In the fucking bed still. What a fucking marvellous progress. He forced his eyes open. Martha held his shoulder gently.  
”You're a tough one, Ray.” Martha was smiling.  
”And you're a hell of a liar, Martha” he managed to whisper.  
The woman let go of his shoulder to support his head while she set the pillow better. ”I didn't need to lie. Some patients are so afraid they scream even before we make the first move. Too bad your ribs were injured too, it adds to your discomfort. Try and relax your muscles now... Anyway, Ray,  from the moment on you got rid of those supports, we simply have to start moving you little by little. And believe me – this turn on your side was a real milestone. I am sure it was one of the most difficult turns you've ever made in your life.”    
Martha gestured something to another nurse and Ray managed to move his head on the pillow. What a strange feeling that was. ”What I remember of the first time I got drunk and had to get up to make it to the bathroom, that might have come close. Although I hurt only later. So much I didn't manage even to whine.”  
Martha chuckled softly. ”Oh we have some mighty good stuff here too to get you drunk or get you hung over, but you are lucky enough to skip those from now on if all goes as planned. Feeling better?”  
Ray had managed to make his breath steadier. ”A little.”  
Martha nodded to the other nurse and Ray had to smile at her mischievous little grin. ”We take advantage of the situation now, Ray, before the doctor returns. A young man like you is an irresistible temptation...”  
Ray closed his eyes when the two nurses started to clean him all over. And although it was also embarrassing, the still choking realisation that he felt what the women did with his lower parts overcame everything else - even the pain, which still was just behind the corner, so that he remembered it all the time, although it wasn't the center of his existence any longer. And he had moved his legs. Turning, he had MOVED them. Himself.  
Feeling had returned gradually the past days, with weird stings and...  and tickles and burnings at first, before he had started to feel more normal. Ray knew he still was on heavy anti-inflammatory medication, but his head was quite clear. Which maybe was heavily overrated, as the surge of emotions going through his mind was overwhelming.  
”Maybe only a few days, Ray, and you get into a decent shower when you are able to sit up, and we finally get those curls of yours in order. Some days later, you can be there mainly on your own. Some undefinable while later, you walk in there.”  
He opened his eyes again and met Martha's level gaze.  
”I will retire in a month, Ray. And I intend to see you get up standing on your feet before that.”  
Ray was shocked. ”Retire? But you can't... you can't do that!”  
The younger nurse bursted out laughing and Martha herself smiled too. ”I'm way past my best before -date, Ray. I almost could be a grandmother to some of the youngest nurses. I have been a nurse for over 40 years. Over 25 years of that in different neurosurgical clinics including 15 years here.”  
Ray looked at her, feeling stunned. Of course he had realised Martha was the oldest nurse of those who were taking care of him – of all nurses, ever - but still she was his absolute favourite. She had all the time been the one who had given him reassurance and security, more than any one of the other nurses or doctors of the ward.  
”So believe me, Ray, I know and I have seen enough to say to you that you will get back on your two feet. If you only hold on to your true nature, you will do that.” The two nurses were finishing with their wash.  
”So... I'm not the worst whiner you've seen?”  
The nurses started to cover Ray again with a hospital gown. ”Definitely not. You know, I have seen people worse injured than you, who had got on their feet because they have been stubborn enough to not give up. Especially the past years as there has been a lot of progress in the methods we have in our use here.  And also I have seen all too many who have given up without a reason even with less severe injuries, and never recuperated to the level they could have. You are a gutsy one, and you have been lucky. So you'd better not disappoint me. The doctor will return soon to talk with you about what they plan next and I thought we might go through the turn again before that. So off to your back now again... yes, that's right... you have all the time in the world, don't rush... aah, that is good, you're a quick learner, Ray love. Take a breath now...  And  again on your side, easy, easy... we're here, no worries... all the time in the world, remember your legs now, steady... yes. Well done! This is what we are going to do today later too, only do not attempt it alone yet as you need support still. And maybe not yet today, but I'm sure tomorrow it will already be easier. You have been immobilized for so long that your joints and muscles need to adjust a little.” The door opened. ”Oh good, doctor, this is already the second turn and we've cleaned him. He's all yours now.”  
The older neurosurgeon, Dr Wong, had returned to the room and he took a chair in front of the agent. ”How are you feeling now, mr Doyle? A bit shaky I assume? The first turn is always the worst. At least you look like being conscious, two weeks ago one patient almost fainted.” The doctor was smiling.  
”You should have told me that beforehand so I could have passed out with clear conscience.” Ray liked this quiet senior neurosurgeon.  
”I'm sorry you missed your chance, mr Doyle. How did it go, nurse Newton?” Martha had been arranging the equipment.  
”It went just as well as I anticipated, doctor, after mr Doyle remembered he actually has two legs to move now. When the pains reduce still, it only gets easier. So I took the liberty to remind him that he'd better not try the turns alone today.”  
The doctor raised his eyebrows. ”That well, hm? I don't know whether it's good or bad news really.”  
Ray frowned. ”What do you mean, doctor?”  
The older man gave him a serious look. ”It means that you have to be extremely careful because there is the danger you try to over-do it. If it was only a matter of muscles or organs recuperating it would be a different case and I might even encourage you to stretch it at some point, but we are speaking about your spinal cord here and if you blow your recovery now, there may never be another chance to get you back on your feet.”  
Ray went pale.  
”I suppose I made myself clear, mr Doyle.”  
The agent swallowed. ”Yeah... perfectly clear.”  
Dr Wong straightened his back. ”Good. So can I trust you to follow every do and don't you're given from this on, until the critical phase is over?” This patient was one they would otherwise have a great deal of problems with.  
”When will it be over then?” Ray frowned, leery already.  
”Simple: when I say so, mr Doyle.” The doctors eyes were cool. ”And believe me, I am the one of us who knows that better.” This policeman would be fun to work with. When got into reins, as he would certainly otherwise stretch it too much.  
”I don't doubt that, doctor.” Ray had come to the conclusion that dr Wong was not trying to show off, but simply wanted to make the situation clear to him. And that was something he was able to accept and appreciate. ”I meant, what does that critical phase mean in praxis?”  
The doctor sighed. This was good. The man had sense in his head. ”It means the period before your damaged vertebrae has ossified adequately. And another critical phase, although shorter, when we remove the screws from your spine in about six months from now if all goes as planned. The time needed for ossification varies so no-one can give you any exact dates at this point. But we follow what is happening in your spine, and from this on you will have a team around you for your rehabilitation, and tomorrow you will meet all of your team. Nurse Newton will also belong to it as your personal nurse, I suppose you don't mind?”  
Ray smiled. ”Absolutely not. I would have gone to hunger-strike if you had tried to make me part from her.”  
Martha couldn't help smiling again. ”Well we can't have that with a skinny man like you, now can we? Anyway, as I said, I want you to get on your feet before I leave. I promise I will do my best from my part if you promise me the same. Do we have a deal?”  
Ray stretched his arm. ”We have a deal, nurse Newton.”  
The neurosurgeon, although left outside that handshake, was content. This man definitely had a chance, if only he would keep his promise and listen to them. ”All right, mr Doyle, I want to have a look at the stitches and then examine a little. Your rib probably would appreciate getting rest again...”  
  
The doctor and the nurses were leaving his room, and the door was already shutting when Martha's head peeked in again. ”I almost forgot to tell you, you'd better have a beauty-sleep. I was informed you are going to have visitors after lunch. Someone has got out after a shoulder-operation, I doubt if he has a medical consent for that really, and another seems to get his teeny splint changed today and may pop in also if he agrees to stay undetected long enough under cover. That is a police term, isn't it?”  
Ray couldn't help chuckling. ”Yes it is. Thank you for telling me, Martha.” He had missed Bodie and his stupid jokes and it would be fun to see Georgie again.  
”Aren't there any size requirements for new police-men any more? I've never seen such a tiny one before.” The nurse winked an eye to the laughing Ray and closed the door, chuckling at her own... recklessness, which would have been out of the question before. But the kitten was so sweet, and this man would be one of her very last patients. Ah, dammit, she wanted him on his feet. Kitty whiskers for everything else. And now she had deserved a cup of tea. Definitely.  
  
  
  
Chapter 41  
  
Georgie was enjoying himself, although the leg hurt again after the mean bipeds had taken away the strange thing they had put around it, and put another back on its place. He didn't remember it happen because they had given a sting (and he had used his own spikes too before the sting and after he had woken up again), but he had noticed the new smells. He had been a little groggy still when the old one had taken him out of the dark small place where he had travelled, and he hated to feel all around him the same frightening smells than in the place where bipeds had stung him, but once he had realised that he was together with his group – Chrissake, is that really Georgie? Jesus mate, you look even funnier than before – Stop that Bodie, it's not his fault his ears and tail grow faster than other parts! Right, sir? - ,  ALL of his group, he had happily wobbled purring and meowing around the bed where the broken one was laying – Let's keep an eye on him lads, he'd better not fall with that leg - , greeting his friends with all his body from whiskers to the tip of the tail – Awww Georgie, take your bum outta my face -  collecting cuddles, and assessing the injuries of the younger ones – Sir, would you please take him away from there, he's gnawing at my toes! - while the bipeds communicated with each other using their own noises – Rotator cuff rupture? Bloody hell, Bodie, that sounds fancy! - Och, not half as fancy as Macklin will sound when he hears of that, Bodie -. His nose first realised that the bleeding one had also a wound in his shoulder – Errr Churchill, I don't think it's a good idea to try to climb there -, and a paw inside some strange cloth – Listen mate, it's a sling and not meant to be your cradle -  and had fresh smell of stinging-people-place – I swear Sir, he's pulling faces at me - but at least his dark hair seemed to be growing back – Now, Churchill, I told you to not climb there! I'm sorry Bodie, he's getting quite handy jumping and climbing with three legs. Och and by the way lads, you owe me a vase. He also killed a plant, I don't mind about that though, got it from a cousin of mine and now got a legal excuse to throw the bloody bush away.    
And the broken one was somehow less broken, and made more of his friendly noises and breathed better than before – SNEEZE - Georgie – SNEEZE – go away from my nose! - , and he had been taken out of the strange human thing from around him – He really looked at me like an owl last time when he was here . Georgie sneezed a couple of times as the broken one smelled of those stinging-people-place liquids all around, they must have soaked the poor friend with it – Look how he's rubbing himself all over Ray, that's peculiar - , and when he put his head down he realised there came a smell of fresh open wound from under the cover, somewhere near the break. - Oi he's up to something, I know that look, keep an eye on him now - He tried to go to check and clean it, but once he had started to push himself under the cover, the old one pulled him out and let him understand that in this place it was not all right to go under cover – Stay PUT now or you'll spend the rest of the day in that box, you little imbecill! - . Georgie pondered about that for a moment, then decided to go and give a good rubbing to the broken one's neck and cheek now as the other strange thing had disappeared from around the neck – Awww it's as if he's hugging Ray... -  and as his nose told him nobody had groomed his friend properly, he started to work on that curly hair instead – Yeah I know, I'd like to get it washed too - . These bipeds seemed to like being groomed, - Och, look, he's getting to his favourite hobby -  even this time the curly one soon closed his eyes and Georgie was sure the curly biped would have purred if he could – Look Sir, Ray is soon in trance again. – Shuddup, Bodie... - Ach, that cat surely gives a good night's sleep easily. - Wasn't he banned from your bed, sir? - Hrmph.... So when will they take the stitches from your back?  Funny how these bipeds could not do such simple things like purring, but they could use their front paws in nice ways, and once Georgie, after spitting out mouthfuls of very un-co-operative hair – Jesus Ray, isn't there any way they could wash your hair? That looks pitiful, seriously - , gave up and carefully climbed on the curly one's chest, he got to enjoy of the front paws of all these bipeds of his – He falls asleep if you rub his chest and under his chin when he's on his back. Look now...See? - It was so very nice to stretch out and relax... and the friendly voices carried the tired and hungry kitten into a blissful nirvana.  
Not even interruption – By Jove, stop hissing at once! Nurse Newton has every right to come in here! - managed to spoil the visit. - Oh is this Georgie? You're a protective little agent, aren't you? Yes you are, you're such a nice-looking tiny policeman, but now I have to give your protegé a pill, sweetie... Here you are, Ray... But I have something for you too sweetie, would you like a little cheese? Would you? Cream cheese, oh yes isn't that nice? What a sweet little Georgie you are, and have such a lovely name... so fitting to a little friendly charming cutie like you... What is it Ray,  goodness did you inhale your pill? Now take it easy, try and breathe, I get you more water. - Also the dark-haired one got trouble breathing and the old one had suddenly all red ears, but the cheese still tasted nice after the curly friend started to breathe properly again and Georgie quickly consumed the last bits in case his biped friends would want to have a share too.  
Not a bad visit at all, and he didn't fight too much against being put into the box again, as he was tired and hungry still, and guessed they would go home and have their meals and then he could have another good sleep. He guessed they had gone in that bad-smelling growling thing but it was not that bad as he could smell the dark-haired one very close and hear also his voice – If you could keep him for another fortnight or so, sir, I think I could manage better with him when the worst is over with the bloody shoulder. Maybe he gets rid of the splint also before that - , and once the dark-haired one had left, it was only a little while before the box was opened again and the little tabby could have a deep breath of relief in his own litter-box after all the excitement of the day.  
And in the evening, they settled comfortably into a big arm-chair, Georgie in the armpit of his biped friend, who rubbed his tummy and chest and cheeks and ears and under his chin in the perfect way he could. - Well then little lad, two weeks more and you move out. My vases and pots will start to stay safe, there won't be cat-hair in my marmalade and bite-marks in the ham, and I don't need to ask anyone to come see you during the day and I can turn in my bed any which way I want without fearing I crush you. Downside of course being that damned Turner from Home Office can again come inside this place and breathe. - Georgie purred, happy, listening only to his nicely full tummy, and to the secure warmth and the touch which told him that everything was fine in his little world, and when his good paw stretched out to search the chin of his friend, the face came closer to accept the touch, just like the kitten knew would happen. And tonight he didn't need to ask for being lifted on the bed.  
   
  
  
Chapter 42  
  
”You all right, Ray?” A warm hand had stayed on Doyle's upper arm.  
Green eyes were blinking rapidly. ”Bodie?”  
There was a squeeze to his bicep. ”Right here, mate. You dozed off somewhere between the PM's speech and the oil prices.” The dark-haired man had seen his friend's heaving breast and had decided to wake Ray up.  
”The car or the cottage?”  
Ray averted his gaze and didn't reply to his soft question.  
Bodie stayed quiet for a moment, and then Ray saw him stand up and walk around the bed to look out from a window. The bleak late-winter sun shyly touched the pale face, and suddenly Ray was seeing a face and figure which were somehow familiar, yet new. With a pang of guilt the startled man realised that during these weeks he had not paid attention to the changes in his mate, being too immersed into his own pains and fears.  
Bodie had lost weight. Not a pound or two, but a stone or two. That, and the shortness of his hair – Ray had never seen his hair trimmed as short as it was now, to accompany the shaved area, almost a half of his head – made the man look years younger... no. It would have made the man  look years younger, if there wasn't the paleness, and the small facial creases betraying history. The white sling was in striking contrast with the black clothes, as was his paleness. And to his shock, Ray realised another thing: Not once had he asked Bodie if he was all right. Chrissake... Shame filled him.  
”The barrow.” His voice was husky, quiet. Bodie stayed silent, but a tiny, unconscious nod told Ray that Bodie had heard him. ”You?”  
Bodie still stayed silent, until Ray saw him take a deep breath. ”The fall into the river. Last night, right when I was falling asleep. But it's not the worst.” Ray saw the man turn away.  
”What is then?” He was sure he wouldn't get a reply. And Bodie hid his face from him.  
When Georgie screams. When he screams and screams and screams and I can't reach him. But it's not Georgie who screams, it's you... And in the car, your cold wet face and cold, wet, not breathing mouth... Bodie squeezed his eyes shut.  
”What is, Bodie?” To his astonishment, Ray heard worry and gentleness in his own voice.  
That was what made the bigger man reply. ”Can't pick up one. Pretty nightmarish the whole fucking business...”  
Ray saw the man take another deep breath,  then force his shoulders relax. ”Yeah, that's true.” Yeah mate... that is so true. Yet you got me out of there. You got me and Georgie out of there, mate...  but to what price? And... ”Are you out of there, Bodie?” It took a fragment of a second before Ray realised he had asked it out loud, and he saw his partner's back go rigid, before the man slowly turned, and looked back at him.  
I will be, once I see you take a step on your own two feet.  
”I will be. As always.” As always, you will get on your feet, Ray.  
”As always.”  
  
”Another milestone reached, I see.” Mr Cowley nodded approvingly at the sight of the end of Doyle's bed finally lifted so that the patient was in more or less sitting position. ”Must feel like nice change, eh, Doyle?” The agent gave him something that might be interpreted as an effort to smile.  
”Yeah, I guess I should be happy 'bout this. To be able to see a little more of the floor and not only the ceiling.”  
The Controller took himself a chair. ”Aye... frustrating, must be, to try and accept these small steps. Especially for someone with your infamous patience, Doyle.”  
Now, that was a genuine little smile.  
”Ach, before I forget. These are from Betty, maybe not quite worth a bottle of malt but could be healthier for you under the circumstances.”  
There was quite a big paper bag filled with assorted dried fruits, and Ray's eyes lit up as the sweet mixture of scents made his mouth water. ”Ah these are great, thank Betty a million for me, will you, sir? Bodie brought me chocolate filled with liquor and those bloody hawks confiscated all of it before I got the first one in me mouth... I demanded a receipt for it.”  
The Scot chuckled. ”Ach well, you'd still better inform nurse Newton about that too. But don't be too cross with the nurses, you are still getting such strong medication that they must have an order to play it safe with you.” He opened his coat and leaned back a little, and for a few minutes they updated each other about the latest developments, and the Controller was content when he heard that the doctors had finally dared to remove the drain tube and most of the stitches from Doyle's back.  
Something seemed to be bothering the agent though, yet he seemed to be hesitant to open his mouth. ”Now, is there something you want to talk about, Doyle?”  
The old man seemed relaxed, and Ray still wondered whether he should ask or not. ”It's Bodie, Sir.” Worry overcame everything else.  
”What about him?” Despite the relaxation, the old man's gaze had sharpened.  
”Have you been talking to him lately, Sir?”  
The Scot shook his head to offered fruits. ”Not since I took him home from here. We talked a little on our way but it was mainly about the kitten. What about Bodie?”  
Doyle was frowning and put the bag aside. ”He was here today... Can't help thinking that he's not doing as well as he lets out, the bloody mule that he is...”  
So... even Doyle had noticed that. The older man took a breath before replying anything. ”Aye. As far as I know, considering his injuries he's doing quite all right, medically speaking. And the orthopedics said the operation had gone well. But I've noticed that Bodie is not quite himself. I've seen that many times though, and nowadays they even have a name for it, PTSD it's called. Post traumatic stress disorder, and I can't help wondering for how long Bodie has managed to avoid it, with all he's been through in his life.”  
Doyle seemed to be instantly relieved. His chief sounded so matter-of-factly, not a hint of scorn in his voice. ”It's different from that King Billy incident, sir. Maybe because now he's injured himself too and can't work.”  
The Scot nodded. ”Aye. I've noticed he's lost his appetite, by the looks of him, and is more quiet in company. It was young Lennox who first alerted me about Bodie's moods, which I find remarkable as he didn't even know Bodie before the accident. And definitely his forced idleness is not doing him good. But it can't be helped, it's a plain fact that he's not capable of working at the moment.”  
The Scot took a deep breath and gave his agent a very piercing look. Ach, this moment is as good or bad as any, and Doyle seemed to be quite lucid. He would need to confront Bodie also about Doyle, of course... but...  
Ray felt his throat go dry in an instant when he understood what the old man said to him.  
”Doyle... I need to talk with you about Bodie's possible future in CI5.”  
  
”Sir... isn't it my future in the squad which is more at risk?”  
The Controller looked at Doyle a little surprised. Not because of the question, as it was a fair one, but because of the tone. He had deliberately formulated his question to Doyle in a manner which would provoke a genuine reaction – that wasn't too hard, Doyle was Doyle and the man's middle name could be Reaction – but he had more expected to witness anger, than this... quiet anxiety, especially as he got a clear impression that it wasn't anxiety or worry over Doyle's own position, but over the one of his partner.  
So... he hadn't been wrong. Something had happened between the two.  
”Now, Doyle, I'm a realist. It will take months before we can make any decisions about you. And to be honest, whatever the outcome of your recuperation, you still are the one of the two of you with more options. You are still basically a policeman, and used to routines other than being in action all the time. Bodie is a soldier. The only reason for him to tolerate being behind any desk is that he is not allowed to skip it, to be able to get the next assignment.” There was edge in the old man's voice. ”And let's face it: He too has had his share of injuries. Not always as immediately life-threatening as yours, but for example his shoulder will not survive another crash, not necessarily even breaking through a door. Third time would not be lucky to him anymore, the doctors made that clear. And neither he, or you, are getting younger, Doyle. Whether you like it or not, even if you would still recuperate back to the field this time, both of you, your time on the field will be limited. And these injuries you got now, probably took the limit closer by years rather than by months.” Doyle seemed almost shocked, but he would probably be honest in his replies... so the Controller continued.  
”And with his uncaring attitude, I have hard time imagining him doing anything else for the CI5. You have pretty much been the only reason why he has chosen to stay even this far.”  
There was silence.  
”I wanted to talk about this with you first, Doyle, before taking it up with Bodie, so that I could get to hear your honest personal opinions without Bodie's influence. You have the most... intimate knowledge of the man, after all.”  
Now there was a flash in agent's eyes. ”Intimate, what the hell do you mean by that? Do you think we're gays or what?”  
The Scot sighed. ”Intimate as innermost and private, Doyle. It's one of those words with multiple meanings. If the two of you had been lovers, you would have killed each other years ago already, and I would have kicked you out, as the two of you would have made life a misery for everyone around you. Well you do that more or less even now, damned hecklers that you are, but I definitely wouldn't have tolerated any lovers' fights added to the usual trouble you two give me.” That left Ray blinking for a while before he found his tongue again.  
”Bodie is not uncaring.”  
That made mr Cowley raise his eyebrows. ”Coming from someone who regularly complains about exactly that, I have it quite hard to believe your comment.” Now, this was turning interesting. Doyle had given an impression of sincerity.  
”Well yeah, I know. But... I have often... misinterpreted him. Let him fool me. He wants to show he doesn't care. But he does. He showed that there, in the house.”  
The Scot hemmed. ”That he cares about you, Doyle, that's imminent, he wouldn't have worked with you so long if he didn't. But that doesn't say he would care about CI5 or his work.” Again the agent's eyes flashed. Good.  
”You wouldn't say that if you had heard...” Ray swallowed, suddenly uncertain, not willing to break the trust his mate had shown him.  
”Heard what, Doyle?” The man stayed silent. ”Now, Doyle, what is it?” He allowed his voice a little friendlier. ”I'm not interested in too many details. But I'm interested in the essential.”  
The green eyes met his again. ”We talked there. Talked quite some, as I couldn't sleep, too scared of... everything.”  
Ray expected to see... scorn, pity, anger, on that face. But all he saw was the man turning to take a little water. ”Considering the circumstances, if you hadn't been frightened you hadn't been human. Do you want to have something to drink?” Again, Ray was surprised, and accepted the offered glass of water with a straw.  
”I may be quite a lot more tough-skinned than your average man, Doyle, but that doesn't mean I would expect my men to be robots. Escaping death by a whisker and facing permanent injury in the middle of nowhere, the way you did, for most, ”scared” wouldn't have covered a fragment of it. Now, what is it that you wanted to tell about Bodie?” Maybe re-phrasing the question would help Doyle to speak without compromising confidentiality, as the Scot expected most of those talks had been of the most private kind; he was ready to respect that, at least to a degree. And indeed, it seemed to help.  
”He's... dunno, maybe people have expected him to act cold. And it's become a habit to him. A cover, shield. But he cares. You should have seen how he took care about Georgie, after Georgie came to take care of him, I mean, came to brush his head on him and cleaned his temple... and when Georgie got hurt there at the slope, where he had followed Bodie when Bodie went to check the road.”  
Ahh... a big man's instinctive response to a small cat's instinctive friendliness. So Bodie was not immune after all, and seemed to really have a strong protective trait in him. The things kittens could do... the Controller carefully hid his fond smile and made a mental note to buy a pole where the little tiger could use his claws. The sofa wasn't quite ideal for that. Or his leg.  
”And he... well, he appreciates the Squad. There's a lot he could do outside field service, sir. He is selling himself cheap, but he's smart. Ok he can be a bastard, but so am I...” Staring at his glass, Doyle missed the genuine surprise on his superior's face. Doyle wasn't usually among the first to admit his own weaknesses, despite his guilt-trips. ”I mean, given the motivation, he could learn more. And he could teach. Goddammit the way he used his head there...” Doyle was shaking his head, with a look of admiration on his face.  
Aye... food for thought, here.  ”Well then, and what would you suggest as his motivator then?” Mr Cowley didn't really expect for an answer, but got it nevertheless, instantly.  
”Feeling of being needed. Of making a difference.”  
The old Scot was still deep in his thoughts when he got to detaching the purring kitten from his long coat.  
  
  
  
Chapter 43  
  
Goddammit.  
What would he do if Bodie left the squad? All right, what would Bodie do?  
Ray had never before thought of the possibility that Bodie would be the one being forced to leave service. But the talk with their superior had brought that possibility clear and painful into his mind. The old man had talked sense, nobody could deny that. And he was worried, the Controller was; that was maybe most frightening of all, as the man let such feelings into open rarely, if ever.  
Despite Bodie being ambidextrous, as he proudly claimed, a field agent would need two fully functioning shoulders and arms, to be able to hit, throw, climb. And Bodie did use more his right arm. Definitely more. Ok the quacks rather played safe than sorry, but if they really had said that the shoulder would not bear another crash or injury, that was bad, to say like that, they were being serious about it.  
And Ray knew that was not the only injury for Bodie. The agent had been stabbed, bad, almost losing his other kidney, and whatever else that damn infection had caused, Ray didn't even know because Bodie had bluntly refused to tell him – sure sign there had been something really severe. And the years the man had been in Africa and god-knows-where, who knew what had happened there? Or in SAS? Most those guys did get crashed one time or another, especially the parachuters... Bodie could be an accident waiting to happen, for all Ray knew. He might have some tropical disease lurking inside his system to wait for the perfect time to emerge, or might have broken some bone, or a joint – knee, ankle, wrist – ready to break again, and Ray wasn't aware of that.  
What would Bodie do if he wasn't fit enough for the field, and decided to not stay in some other position, even if the old man would arrange something? Despite his certain lazyness, the man was an adrenalin junkie, as was Ray too, he – they – would need something to keep the mind occupied. And the old man had been right – of them two, Ray was the one who could adjust easier to other police-work, for as long as it had some meaning. He would be happy... no, not happy, but he would tolerate digging out information, or sitting doing surveillance or something like that, for as long as it was worth something. But would Bodie? The man was no pen-pusher. And he didn't even have the training.  
What would the man do outside CI5?  
Something stupid, probably.  
He would stretch it, that was certain. The Army wouldn't take him back due to injuries if he was  cast out from the field in CI5, but he might start working as a hired muscle, bodyguard or something like that. Or then, he might return to be a mercenary. Or... would he? Maybe not where ever or in who ever's service, Ray wanted to believe the man wouldn't return to the other side, but if he got desperate enough...  
One thing was certain. If the man wouldn't get his kicks from adrenalin, he would search them elsewhere. Ray knew the type, he had seen them enough for the lifetime when working in the drug-squad. Bodie would try to fight it, he wasn't stupid, and he would try to keep to birds, but if he got bored enough, if he lost his self-esteem bad enough... he didn't shun from the bottle to begin with,  neither did Ray, both knew their limits but both also had crossed those dozens of times if there wasn't a need to stick to them. And if Bodie wouldn't be working for the old man, there was no need to limits, not the way there was now. The Cow expected his men be in working condition when they were on duty, he didn't mind if the nose was a little bleak after the weekend, but as it was well possible that the man in question would find himself running under Macklin's eye, there was no sense in taking the risk more often than necessary. But god forbid if it was anything more than a mere aftermath of a hangover, the old man made you firmly decide that the first time also was the last.  
Anyway, Ray couldn't be sure if there was anything aside work and women that would  make Bodie keep away from the bottle. He would need a meaning to his life, before it really would be a life wasted.  
Larry came, and for a couple of hours, Ray was distracted from his grim thoughts by the good-humoured man. Martha came later for the night-shift, and introduced Ray a nice young woman, nurse starting her specialization to neurosurgery, but funny enough, all that caused, was Ray wondering if Bodie had anyone with him now. Between them, the two agents had dated maybe a dozen nurses, and this cheeky girl was more Bodie's type than Ray's own, but all of a sudden Ray also realised that this girl was so young – or he himself was so old – that she hardly could be his sister any more, hell, it wouldn't take many years more and the girl could almost be his daughter. And again, that made the curly-haired man fall into dark thoughts.  
”Now, Ray, what's wrong?” Martha had returned, to tuck him in for the night, as she said. ”You are a quiet one today. Is there something bothering you?”  
”Was reminded of mortality, that's all.” And not only mine.  
Falling into an uneasy slumber, he saw the solitaire figure of the slim, short-haired dark man, standing in front of the window, his back turned.  
Quiet.  
  
  
  
Chapter 44  
  
”FUCK!”  
Bodie took a deep breath and shook his head, exasperated. ”Chrissake, Ray! You scare half the bloody hospital! And what would have Larry said if he had heard, eh? Or Alan? Or Alan's mum? These rooms are not sound-proof, you know! Sorry for that, mrs Taylor.”  
The physio, a robust built brunette about Ray's age, only shook her head. ”Impatient patient, our mr Doyle. What did you expect, going jogging after three weeks in bed? For goodness' sake, you have barely got permission to sit up!”  
But Ray, who had collapsed on his bed, shaking and sweating, didn't pay any attention, and to Bodie, it looked like his mate was close to tears. The physio had probably seen a lot of that, as she didn't seem to mind. ”Look, mr Doyle, what I try to tell you is, that we, you and I, are supposed to work hard to regain, meaning, get back, your mobility, and to strengthen your muscles, but that will be a process of weeks and months, and this here is barely the very first session of isometrics to you! Done right, these excercises make even a fit person sweat in minutes, and pardon my French, you're not even close to that category, yet you will be once I'm finished with you. Does your back hurt more than before the excercise?”  
Bodie gave the woman an admiring look. This was a woman he didn't want to make angry. Didn't take nonsense, this lady.  
Ray fought his breathing more stable. ”Only the area of the wound really, but my ribs hurt worse, it's hard to breathe.”  
Mrs Taylor nodded. ”Well we knew to expect that, didn't we? They did reassure me that your ribs have healed enough for this but of course there still is pain. What about your neck?” The last MRI had shown the neck was practically healed, but still it was possible there could be pain.  
”Neck? Didn't even remember it.” Bodie saw Ray swallow. ”But I couldn't keep myself tense for longer than bloody seconds! As if I'm some friggin' jello, goddammit!”  
Bodie sighed. ”Listen sunshine, use the insides of that mop of yours, eh?”  
Ray looked like exploding. ”Well I do, don't I? I couldn't fucking do anything! I got that perfectly clear!”  
Bodie saw the physio roll her eyes. ”Men. What if I told you that you just lifted approximately 40 kilos for 10 seconds using only the muscles of your neck and back?”  
Ray blinked. ”But I didn't...”  
Bodie suppressed his grin. Ray would probably try to hit him spotting any inappropriate expression. ”You lifted your own body weight, berk. And yeah everybody knows you weigh more than that, but we only are talking about your mid. Now, would you really try to understand what mrs Taylor tried to explain to you already before you started? She did use very simple phrases you know, but you were so aflutter you seem to have missed everything. Or do you want me to explain? I can fetch a dictionary and explain you every word real slow. I can start by explaining her telling  that it's a question of at least 12 weeks therapy, which is approximately 3 months, or 84 days, and this day is number one, uno, first, alpha, and it takes 83 days more to get to day 84... So don't be an idiot.” Bodie had lost his joking tone. ”They only fixed my fucking shoulder, sunshine. And the last I spoke with the orthopedic, I am probably off duty for another month still, if I'm fucking lucky! Damn shoulder only! And they are not even sure if they can restore the motorics fully.”  
Ray was able to see the bigger man halt and struggle to hide something he did not want to show.  
”Anyway the point is, there's no point in... dammit, simply try to be patient, all right? Mrs Taylor, tell him straight, did he do well or not?”  
The physio gave this other policeman, who still carried his arm in a sling, a secretly appreciating look. ”You want my honest answer for that?” Two nods came immediately. ”You did fine, mr Doyle.  There are many who don't manage even that in the beginning. Your starting point is already better than with many spine-patients I have worked with, and so is your prognosis, if you are willing to work hard enough, but without pushing it too far. These isometric excercises are meant to make your muscles work but so that it doesn't cause strain to your damaged vertebrae, as I already told you. And don't worry, you are going to sweat and swear many times, but as you seem to belong to those who sweat while working and swear after, that looks very promising to me. Now, we repeat the excercise, and if you can hold yourself up for five seconds, I am happy. Just one thing; as I happen to hate that particular word you used, would you mind trying to use something else this time?”  
But as a pang of worry over his mate had already hit Ray, he actually managed the repeat without foul words.  
Bodie watched his mate pull together his stamina to manage, flushed, sweating, grimacing, through the excercises for different groups of muscles, without knowing what was the reason driving his mate; during this session and during the coming days.  
Fear.  
Fear of losing a partner – and the fear of Bodie losing himself.  
  
  
  
Chapter 45  
  
”Och, you can't be serious!” The Controller gave the CI5 medic an exasperated look. ”I can't bloody believe this! Appendicitis?” It was one of the rare moments when George Cowley wanted to go and bang his head against a wall.  
”They already confirmed that from the hospital and he'll be operated this afternoon. He won't be able to get back on the field for another 3-4 weeks. But I have to go now. Have a nice day.” The medic calmly turned and took his leave.  
The Controller stared at the closed door. Fred should have gone to a stakeout, but had complained about stomach pain. The Controller, who was well aware that the man deeply detested stakeouts, had been leery, but it had turned out that Fred really had appendicitis. Off the field for 2-3 weeks... Goddammit!  What curse was it that had jinxed CI5? One agent dead, Kennedy returned to consciousness only a few days ago, recovering physically little by little but so traumatized that it was dubious he could ever return to duty, Doyle not even on his feet yet, and that literally speaking. Bodie still hand in a sling, Jax limping badly after an injury to his ankle... Six men off the field. Six. And all this in less than four weeks. Less than four miserable weeks.  
There was a knock on the door and prompted, Murphy stepped in. ”You wanted to see me?” Although the sir was missing, tone was still polite and respectful.  
”Aye. Sit down, Murphy. I meant to talk about that Robertson, but the whole investigation must now be re-arranged. We're short of men, Murphy, I was told a moment ago that Fred's appendix decided to save him the trouble of a stakeout. He can't be sent to the field for a few weeks and it will take days before he is useful in any manner whatsoever.”  
There was a tinge of bitterness in the Scot's voice, so Murphy thought for a while before saying anything as he was so worn out he really didn't want to take any unnecessary outbursts from his superior. ”Jax can do surveillance, he said his ankle hurts still so much anyway that he won't be able to sleep much. But then I have to take Benton as his back-up, and hope to God there won't be a need to send him running. If I get a good night's sleep I can manage a longer shift tomorrow with Bob but I need to sleep now.”  
The Controller could see the strain on the tall man's face, he had been up for the last 36 hours already. ”Take Benton then, and tell the men that they are allowed to call in the uniforms by their own judgement. Those two are experienced enough to make the decision without me or anyone else meddling. I try to see to it that we do not take any new assignments unless it is something extremely important, I must have a new look on things in order to re-priorise. And I must have a look at the personnel files. This is intolerable, we must get new people now. And if the Home Secretary tries to whimper about it, I will rub it into his face that CI5 lost men because we were the only ones who took those Aberdeen lunatics seriously. ”  
Murphy was as practical as always. ”We need people and quickly, but we also need people to train them even if we recruit straight from the police, army or anywhere. And as a rule, the MI's won't let their people defect. Those would need the least re-training. With luck Jax is back on track in a matter of days, but we really should get more people in case Fred, Bodie and Ray are off the count for more than a couple of weeks. The trained ones will be needed in the field, but the instructor for newbies should also be a very experienced guy. And Macklin has his hands full as it is.”  
The Scot grunted. ”And you think I don't know that? I need to have a look on that matter anyway, because in a year or two we are starting to lose older agents from the field. But now, go talk with Jax. Hasn't the man heard about painkillers?”  
Murphy smiled. ”He does take some, but said that if he takes enough to really cut off the pain, it messes with his head. And he rather stays sharp.”  
Mr Cowley nodded approvingly. Jax was a good man and they had been told that best remedy for that blasted ankle was simple rest. ”Off you go then. Tell Jax I want a report in the morning. Debrief Jax and Benton properly so they have all the information they need for action if something happens. And after that you go to your bed.” The Scot knew that some other agencies, as well as the army, used pills to keep the men awake and alert over the normal hours, but he was so fiercely against drugs of any kind, that he never ordered his men to use other chemical help than coffee, to stay awake in their work, being well aware of the possible side-effects. If he would take that path, the men would be more or less high much of the time, given their line of work. No. He pushed his men hard, but he never expected them to be machines.  
”Will do, Sir. ” Murphy took his leave, and for the thousandth time the Controller thought that no-one, seeing the way the man loitered in the halls and corridors of the HQ, could ever believe the efficiency he was capable of. And Murphy was one of those who also quickly thought of the bigger picture without prompting, a skill that was valuable.  
The Scot sat behind his desk for a couple of minutes, before buzzing the desk-phone. ”Get me the files of every single applicant we have had the past 18 months. Also, files of every agent retired the past two years. Get the head-master of Bramshill into phone, and tell Macklin, if you get a hold of him, that I want to have a word with him...” the Scot checked the time, ”in one hour. Otherwise I'm not to be disturbed for the rest of the afternoon unless it is something very important.” He thought for a moment. ”And call NHNN, I want to know when Doyle is available today.”  
It was time for another talk.  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 46  
  
”Didn't even know he had applied, he liked it in the drug squad. Why didn't you take him at the  time?” Doyle was reading a file, frowning.  
”Harrington was picked up then, and what made me most hesitate was, that Thompson was going under an internal investigation.” The Controller sighed and stretched his back. He was tired of sitting.  
”What? Internal... On what ground?” Doyle seemed genuinely surprised.  
”Using unnecessary violence when making an arrest, and also he had received a severe notice for insubordination against his superior. Also he had been suspected for planting evidence, which was for me the gravest issue.” That made Doyle raise his eyebrows.  
”Curiouser and curiouser as in Wonderland. Yeah Thompson has always been a bit of a hothead, but he's always got along with Banbury and Banbury never seemed to have much trouble in curbing his temper. They've been fair with each other. And I have it bloody hard to believe Thompson would have tampered with evidence.” How different Doyle appeared now as his thoughts had been pulled away from the hospital bed, the Scot could easily see more life in the green eyes.  
”I am under impression that issue was dropped after the investigation. And if you mean Thomas Banbury, as far as I know, he was forced to retire due to health issues, and the superior in question is Andrew Manson.” The Scot saw Doyle grimace.  
”Oh bloody hell... then I don't wonder at all. I worked with Manson for a few months, yeah, and after he was appointed a temporary leader of our team, he got his fair share of those ”quite a few run-ins” you sometime mentioned, sir. Can't figure out why he stayed in the drug-squad to begin with. Hard to think of another section which would suit him worse.”  
”Interesting. How would you describe or characterize Manson yourself, Doyle?” The agent rubbed his nose.  
”I sometimes heard you use a good word. Constipated. Fits the man perfectly.”  
Mr Cowley had to smile. ”Ach... there are such people around. Unfortunately. But usually in the ministries and not in the drug-squad, I agree. Anyway, I'm glad I have managed to broaden your vocabulary. But back to more serious business then. This Dan Thompson, do you think he'd be worth recruiting if he still is interested?” Even before mr Cowley had finished the last sentence, Doyle was nodding.  
”Unless he has completely crashed the past months when I haven't heard about him, yeah, definitely. But he needs someone thick-skinned as his partner, he's... well, not that different from me, actually. Which was the main reason why we didn't really get along that well.” Now the agent looked a little embarrassed.  
Fascinating, what the unfortunate accident had caused, the Scot mused in his mind.  
”And I'm not sure about  the extent of his combat-skills, saw him seldom in action as we didn't work that much together, but I know he used to keep fit, play football and run and things like that. Also a good shot with pistol, pretty much my class. He's good in the police-work, and doesn't shun from tough places. I'd say he's worth given a chance.”  
”Despite you not getting along with him.” The Scot gave a piercing glance.  
”That's trivial.” Doyle's eyes didn't shift. ”He's a good copper. Could be a real asset. And I won't be there to fight with him any time soon, I gather. If ever.” Now the eyes had darkened but the man straightened his back. ”Anyways, he'd make a good team with someone like Murphy.” The agent seemed to sigh. ”Or Bodie.” That came very quietly.  
As Doyle turned his gaze aside, he missed seeing  a flash of warmth and compassion in the eyes of the old man. But the Scot didn't allow much of that in his voice. ”Well, even if we got Thompson, that doesn't still help much, unless his superiors allow him to leave disregarding the usual time of notice. In the current situation we need at least a couple of men and quickly. I will talk with Thompson, and if he is interested, I try to lean on Manson to let him go. Is Thompson a man who listens to straight talk?”  
”At least what I know of him, yeah. He's a straightforward kind of bloke, and that goes both ways.” Doyle closed the dossier and handed it back to his superior.  
”Good. Thank you, Doyle, I trust your judgement there. If I have managed to tolerate you all these years, I guess I survive these last ones with him too.” The Scot put the file into his briefcase and leaned back. ”I talked with Archie also, as well as Tommy Pennington. Archie has got his ulcer sorted out, looks like, and Tommy said he is getting bored rigid, so at least we do have some temporary backup for surveillance and so forth, if we manage to work around their pensions. But we also need feet and brawn and not only brain. Suggestions?”  
”Bramshill, I'd say. I mean, if they haven't changed the system, the last year trainees are at the moment desperately trying to find training posts where they wouldn't be spat on.”  
Mr Cowley nodded. ”Aye, the Academy... och, sorry, Police Staff College. The Americans have infected us with those utterly stupid films.” In response to Doyle's surprised gaze, he chuckled. ”I do sometimes watch television, Doyle. Can't be resentful if I do not know the subject, can I?” He saw the agent smile. ”Anyway, I already thought about that too, because we do need young blood also. But do you think we could get useful agents out of, what our American friends call rookies?”  
Doyle scratched his unruly curls and thought. The man definitely needed haircut, the Scot thought, but then again, that hardly was the first priority.  
”Yeah... I do think so. Of course, experience is an asset, but then again, it's not everything. And not everybody there is as wet behind ears work-wise as I was when I entered.  With some luck you could find there blokes with Army training, for example, or with some special skills. Besides, as trainees, it's easier to drop off any unsuitable people. Absolutely worth giving a try. Oh yeah, and they are cheap labour too.” Now, that glance was even humorous. Good. Doyle was coming alive again.  
The Controller sighed. ”There only is the problem that they need to be selected, that done quickly, and trained still for us. Even if we would only use them as temporary duct-tape, so to speak. Even Thompson needs some tutoring. And we don't have people to spare for that. Unless...” Ach, Doyle's eyes squinted. Good lad.  
”... unless you use someone experienced enough who is not for use at the field.”  
The Scot nodded his approval for Doyle's quick wit. ”Exactly. Do you think Bodie would be up to it? I tried to call his apartment a few times but he didn't answer the phone.” Was there a flash of worry in the green eyes? ”But probably he was seeing the physiotherapist.”  
”Probably, yeah...” Doyle seemed to have his own suspicions though, judging by the way his teeth almost sank into his lower lip. ”Anyway, thinking about training the... eh, duct-tape, I think it would be a brilliant idea to use Bodie. Yeah. He might be able to help with the selection, and definitely with giving a crash-course. A few days with the newbies and he'd also be able to help with pairing, I mean...”  
”I know what you mean, Doyle.” Controller nodded, Doyle had given him reassurance that his thoughts were not that wild after all. He took his gloves. ”All right, I better get going, I will meet the Minister in 45 minutes.” The Scot got on his feet, and as if remembering something, returned his attention to the agent. ”Och, one thing, Doyle, as I will be damned busy the next few days, yet this matter being of urgency, would you mind lending a hand in the first selection of trainees? I already contacted the College, and they are supposed to deliver us information on persons who their trainers consider potentially useful for our needs and who are interested, I expressed a wish for some 20-30 names if only there is interest enough. Betty will collect their files tomorrow morning, and as far as I'm concerned, she might as well bring the files here for your first evaluation. You have as good a picture of what we needed as anyone, and if you could for example pick out, let's say ten names, I, or Bodie, could go on from there. If Bodie is interested, that is.” Again there was a flash in Doyle's eyes, where the Scot had focused on.  
And … urgency, plea? in Doyle's voice. ”I won't mind helping, not at all. Apart from the physio, all I have is bloody time here. And yeah I understand it's a bad situation for the Squad, was that even before Fred and Jax. Bodie understands that too, or at least will if you tell him about the latest. I know he may freak out, a sort, say he's no teacher or anything, but if you give him a little directions, what you'd expect of him, he'll make it. He has the head, Bodie does, and he's so experienced, he knows the job, our job, even without the police-training, and he's been working with me for so long he has a good idea on the police-work stuff too.” Doyle turned his eyes away momentarily. ”And that would give him something to focus on. Something important. Meaningful. To help the Squad and the partners there. And he can come talk with me any time, if there's something I can help with.”  
The green eyes returned. ”And you can tell that berk he'd better say yes. That I told him to take the assignment and I will kick his arse from here to eternity if he doesn't bloody take that!”  
In the corridor, George Cowley allowed himself a little smile.  
   
  
  
Chapter 47  
  
Bodie didn't look quite well when he opened the door in the evening. And he seemed to lack any reaction to his superior's visit, which was unusual, as more often that not, the man was at least curious, if not annoyed, which, actually, was the more usual alternative. But now, he only opened the door, grunted come in and appeared oddly subdued. Also, for the first time in years, the Scot saw Bodie in form he only could call thin. Not quite like Doyle used to be, as Doyle was generally more lightly built in any case, but certainly there was not an ounce of fat left in the ex para, and it looked like he had also lost muscle. That as itself was understandable, considering the circumstances as the man hardly was able to excercise properly, but that considerable loss of weight, in a man with Bodie's appetite, that felt... alarming. And, the Scot barely managed to hinder himself from counting the tablets in the package of painkillers he saw on the table – next to a bottle of whisky.  
”Wouldn't recommend that combination, Bodie.” The Controller didn't hide the edge in his voice, nodding towards the bottle and the pills. There was a dark glance but the man didn't say anything, only threw himself sitting on a sofa. ”Those particular pills may cause nasty surprises with alcohol, and even before you ask, yes I can tell that from experience.” Now, that caused a mild reaction in the younger man. ”Luckily, my goal is only to empty a glass and not the whole bar, as may be the case with some other men, so I noticed the effect in time.” Effect which, of course, the doctor had already warned him about, but he had kind of forgotten it...  
Bodie sat quiet for a moment. ”When were you prescribed those?”  
”When I was discharged from the hospital after Martin pushed me down those stairs, it took quite a while before my left shoulder stopped hurting.”  
As mr Cowley  had hoped, that brought a small smirk in the agent's face.  
”Well there was nothing wrong with your right shoulder when you threw and smashed that bottle of malt we brought you.”  
The Scot sighed. ”That was a grave accident indeed. And the chiding I was given by the head nurse was most impressive. I sometimes suspect certain nurses are chosen by qualities that are quite opposite to nursing. But joking aside, Bodie, be very careful with those pills. Are they giving you any other medication now?”  
”No, but something happened yesterday at the physio, which has caused the shoulder hurt like hell again, and I have to be back at the quacks tomorrow morning, they will check if there's some new injury.”  
Bodie didn't meet his superior's gaze, and that made the old man frown. Och, that was the last thing the agent needed right now, a setback. And the last thing the Controller needed. He pursed his lips. ”Well, in that case, it is for the best that I put that bottle away from your sight.” As he did, and Bodie was so stunned he didn't get a word from his mouth when the old Scot, after putting the bottle into the bar, calmly locked the door and put the key into his own pocket. Bodie's bar was so well made that the man certainly would not want to cause it damage, and he probably would not want to go to a pub with an arm in a sling. ”It's more than understandable that you would rather have more than a wee dram, laddie, but I warmly recommend you to stick to those painkillers only. I do not wish to hear you have been found unconscious in your bathroom, or worse. There is enough trouble already.” He returned to his seat and faced Bodie. ”I tried to get in touch with you already in the afternoon.”  He did manage to keep accusation out from his voice.  
”I was out in the park for a few hours. Needed fresh air.” It was clear the agent was pouting, but he did it remarkably quietly this time. Which, also, was alarming.  
”Fresh air does always good.” The Controller saw Bodie try to shrug, but that brought a small grimace of pain to the man's face. ”Anyway, I think you would benefit even more of something else. As would I.” He finally opened the buttons of his long coat and sighed. Damned Minister, the man sometimes was a walking migraine. Maybe he should too have a walk outside after he'd been home and fed Churchill. Or take the kitty to the back garden for a while, he still was so young he wouldn't dare to wander far from him. Aye, he definitely needed some oxygen after the toxic fumes of politics he had needed to endure.  
”Betty said you wanted to talk with me about something.” Bodie managed to get in between. Not that he appeared interested in any way, he probably only wanted to know if there had been a valid reason for not opening that bottle before the Controller's appearance.  
”Aye. Something important, and quite urgent. Have you talked with Doyle today?” The agent shook his head.  
Hm. He had hoped Doyle had managed to do some ground work. But of course not, that would have been too much to ask from the damned Lady Fortuna who seemed to have turned her fat back end at CI5. ”Right. Prick your ears now, Bodie, because I have a need of extra set of brains.”  The Controller quickly debriefed his agent about the current lurking catastrophy in CI5.  
  
”And now, Bodie, I am in need of someone to give basic training about our methods to new people. In desperate need.” The Scot did not need to exaggerate, as that was a fact. ”Not to mention urgent. We went through all our current cases before I left the HQ, and there is absolutely none we can leave out or hand over at the moment. So we simply need fresh feet, and muscle, to the field. Of course we will get help from uniforms for arrests, busts et cetera, but it is not a sustainable solution. It is possible that we get a decently useful man from the Drug-squad if they allow him to leave, but you know how it is, a regular copper, no matter what the branch, does need some tutoring to really be for our use. And considering the circumstances, I thought, and Doyle agreed with me, that you are the perfect person for that purpose.”  
Now there was life in those deep blue eyes. Suspicion and... fear? ”Ray? What the hell has Ray to do with this?”  
”He will help by choosing some trainees from Bramshill, where they have today done a preliminary draft after my request. Of course, as you both are on sick-leave, I do not have any official authority to order either one of you to this, but Doyle readily volunteered when I talked with him today, he understood the situation and wanted to help, and I think he also could use some work for his brain. I think that he would have readily volunteered as a tutor also, if only he would be able to move. But if you agree to lend the Squad a hand in form of time, your experience, and some commitment for... a few weeks maybe, until we start to get others back to the field, Doyle said he also gives his ideas and wit to your use.”  
Bodie seemed to withdraw into himself, block himself out. Ach, that was out of the question. The Scot wanted him involved. For more reasons than one. But he wouldn't be who he was, if he did not have his ability to adapt, to change tactics. So, he gave a deep sigh. ”And, Bodie, as a matter of fact, I do feel that also Doyle needs that little... assignment. It isn't only that we lack men, or that I need assistance, but talking with Doyle today I realised how... deeply useless he has felt himself.” As have you, lad. Useless, broken, failed... worthless. But that was something he would never ever let out from his mouth. Not to Bodie. ”I realised how much he needs the feeling of being involved. How much he needs to think about something else than his own situation. And to you Bodie, to you as his partner, I can tell, that I need to know, I need to find out, if Doyle has a future in CI5 in case his injury prevents him from returning to the field duty.”  
Now, that caused a reaction. The stiffness of shoulders, tightening lips... and finally, those blue, squinted eyes, meeting his.  
”Aye, Bodie.” The Scot almost whispered, yet he knew that not one word, one syllable was missed by the quiet man in front of him. ”I haven't wanted to talk about this before as it has felt too early, too early for you both, but I think it's time. So I place you a question. A very simple question, but I want you to think before you answer, and think carefully.” Now the agent was frowning.  
”Are you willing to help your partner to return to CI5?”  
  
  
  
Chapter 48  
  
”I am too old for this.”  
The kitten gave a questioning little meow.  
”Too old and too bloody... whatever.” The tabby, now very small but no more tiny, looked up, and twitched his tail. ”And I will definitely not take any misbehaving from you right now, so you do as you're told and stay close.”  
Well, as usual the feline had his own ideas about that, and after a minute, he had vanished into the dark jungle of the small garden.  
Just like those two, the old Scot mused, irritated. Give them clear instructions and some specified space, and you'll find them vanishing into some thin air with their tails up. ”Churchill?” Och, there he was, peeking from behind a small rosebush. ”Right then, carry on, laddie.” He himself sat on the small bench, where he sometimes, if the weather was fine, spent a quiet moment.  
Bodie. Damned Bodie.  
For once, he had not been able to penetrate the man's surface. For bloody once, he hadn't been able to either lure, or blackmail the man into a decision. Into any decision. Bodie had listened to him, had listened to all he said about Doyle, but still, he had not decided.  
Damn it.  
But, the man was not well. Even Doyle had said Bodie had been quiet the latest visits. And if there really had happened a setback regarding the shoulder, that probably had made things worse. Yet, the Controller had been dead certain that worry over Doyle would have drawn the dark-haired agent into this assignment.  
But no. Bodie had only sat still, staring at the painkillers, quiet, and after a lengthy silence, said quietly he might give it some thought one of these days. And that had been it.  
All right.  
If the man was not able to decide, if the man was not willing, and the man – dammit! - was not strictly under his command, he had neither right nor power to order him.  
Mr Cowley was able to understand and accept that. But there were two other things he was not able to understand.  
Why didn't Bodie take the catch immediately? He cared about Doyle, hell, Doyle was probably the only human being the mercenary really and truly cared about. And Doyle cared about Bodie, that was clear. What was the cause of that darkness behind the blue eyes?  Fear? Remorse? Fatigue? Had those eyes seen too much, too often, too deep? Too deep inside? Inside himself?  
  
And then there was the other question; a question for himself.  
What should he care?  
No. Re-phrase.  
Why should he care?  
Still wrong phrasing.  
Why did he care?  
Aye.  
Those two had been an occasional thorn in his flesh ever since they joined in. Ever since he took them in. And he had let them know that, aye, loud and clear, when ever the two had disobeyed, badgered, challenged him. How many times had that happened? Dozens, certainly. No, maybe hundreds, during all these years. But not only had he kept them, but also they had stayed. Through thick and thin, over and over again. Between all kinds of rocks and hard places.  
Those two damned incorrigible hecklers.  
  
And where was the third pain? There was nothing to be seen in the beam of the torch.  
”Kitty kitty kitty, Churchill, kitty kitty...” A stubborn silence. The man sighed. What was that little devil up to? But he found out soon enough, when commenced furious yapping from one of the neighbouring gardens. In two minutes the rescue-mission was accomplished, hissing and shaking culprit had reached the biped Scot's shoulder and neck, and mrs Dunne's mean and fat little Dachshund had been sent yelping back towards its own garden by a precise kick.  
”How many pairs of pants do you mean to destroy with those nails of yours, eh?” the old man growled, angry and irritated. ”And once I get to clean the scrapes you made in my leg, I give you a shaking!” Well, shaking had the little lad got already, and now he pushed against the man's neck as he approached his door.  
”It would have served you right, if that mean little bitch had bitten your stubborn bottom. Did she get at you, eh? Did she? I can't understand why I bother with you, you miserable little pest!” After a quick check in the warmth of his kitchen, to see that the kitten had not suffered injuries in the teeth of the Dachshund, and the inevitable tongue-lashing while doing the said examination which ended in purring and stroking, the Scot watched the kitten start grooming himself, and in a moment, sneak towards the back door, meowing suggestively. Ach, the little daredevil minx! Unwillingly, the man started to smile. ”You are just as bad as those two, you know that?”  
And if they were something else than what they were, would he respect them even half as much as he did?  
Presumably not.  
Would he like them?  
Well...  
Would he care?  
No.  
They were the best of his men.  
They were his men.  
For better and for worse.     
And in bloody sickness and in health.  
  
Twenty minutes later there was a buzz at Bodie's door.  
  
  
  
EPILOGUE  
  
A man was standing on a winding road, looking down a slope into a river, huddled inside a warm mountain jacket as winter breeze pushed small needles into his skin. He stood there for a long while, in his thoughts and memories.  
He would remember that one morning the rest of his life, he thought. Waking up with a heavy head, the tiredness, the half-drugged existence, those he had already been used to. But there were the eyes of his partner. Blue eyes full of shame, full of pain, full of fear. Oh yeah, and he would have seen exactly the same if there had been a mirror.  
No-one would ever hear what they had talked about. Or, he might sometimes tell about what he himself had said, but never what the other one had confided him with. Never bloody ever. As that morning, those hours, they ripped apart much of what the two men had thought they knew about each other, and crushed it.  The glimpses they had got in Scotland, those had been nothing compared with what they, for the first time ever, allowed each other see.  
He didn't know what had been harder, to finally let the true tears break out, or to make them stop running. To admit the weakness, or to accept the offered arm, as without strength as that was too.  
Women certainly had it easier. They were allowed to cry and be weak. Maybe that's why women could deal with anything.  
The man hemmed. That was one bloody blasphemous idea.  
But that morning had been the turning-point.  
Martha had been wonderful. She had come in at an awkward moment, but had arranged them to be left in relative peace until they both had managed to take a deep breath. And then – what maybe told more than anything else about their characters – they had turned to teasing and badgering, until the next tears they wiped were that of laughter.  
Yeah.  
What a day it had been. It had left him – them – exhausted and embarrassed. But at some point his partner had thumped his knee lightly, and said it was time to lift the lazy arse and start working. And so they had done. The next time Martha had come in, they had already covered the bed with files, and were discussing – even heatedly – about the things the newbies, or the duct-tape, should learn, to be of any use for the Squad. Then they had parted as they had both their respective doctor's appointments and physio-sessions. And also, both had been scheduled to have their own respective talks with the old Scot. The Controller. The Controller, who, Bodie had told him, had the previous evening taken Bodie by his throat and pinned the agent against the wall, without laying a finger on the man, until the old interrogator had finally managed to pierce the numbness Bodie had tried to create to protect himself.  
They had faced the grim reality of one injury too many,  yeah, both of them, but they had faced that side by side, sitting in front of their superior, who, in some strange way, had managed to turn this catastrophy, this crisis, into a challenge and an opportunity. But what if I won't get on my feet? Ray had been worried. Och you will, Doyle, I have no doubt about that. Whether you will be able to return to the field, that is something only time will tell, or if your shoulder allows your return, Bodie. The old man had leaned forward. My plan has been built on the worst case scenario, that your days at the field in any duties are completely numbered. Anything better than that is a bonus. But I am not willing to allow your experience as agents be let down the sewer, everything that CI5 has invested in you. The man had given them thoughtful, piercing glares. Aye, I am sure there will be days when you hate me for this, lads. As there will be days I also heavily regret my decision, if you decide to accept this... long-term assignment. But I am not in the habit of wasting my, or anybody else's time, to lost causes, and you should know me well enough to be able to trust that.  
The eyes of the old man had been very bright. And both Ray's and Bodie's gazes had been thoughtful when they had locked, because what the old man had suggested to them was something so vast, so unexpected, so frightening... so alluring. They had seen mr Cowley lean back, as if content. Think about it, lads, talk about it. It will not be easy, but it will not be impossible either.  
Those eyes. Cold, demanding, and at the same time, warm.  
I know that you are able, lads. But if you are willing... that is up to you, and you only. You are men of  action, men of the field... Aye, I do not know if you find the will. The old Scot had sighed. But I wish you did.    
A few days later Ray Doyle had started to learn to walk. They both had, he and Bodie, in a manner of speech, as the accident had broken something, something that they could not – or maybe even would not -  return to. And as much as they worked to regain their strength and mobility, they also tried to regain the basic trust in their bodies and minds. There had been bad days and worse days, pains, frustration, disappointments, yet at some point both men had realised that the worse days were not quite as bad as they had been a while ago, and the bad days had turned into tolerable, and in the end, Ray had been allowed out, and as he had promised, he had walked out from the building on his own two feet before Martha's last day at work, and into Bodie's car; but first Ray had only leaned in the car and then walked back to astonished and fluttered Martha, bringing a huge bunch or roses to his one-woman-back-up-team, like he had called the seasoned nurse who had used with him her every knack from flattery and reassurance, through bribery and extortion, to threats; in order to make the man stick to the program.  
But then it had started for real; the real life outside the protective walls; for weeks both agents complained they had never been as tired as they were then, working with the rehabilitation as well as facing the true demands of the project they had accepted from the Controller; educating themselves.  
Then one day, when they had gone to the HQ as requested, and entered their shared office, they had found a blonde man sitting leisurely in Bodie's chair, his feet on the desk.  
”Hullo boys, long time no see, eh? Get changed. I've talked with the physios of you both. Today evaluation, and starting from next Monday, you have my undivided attention for the next two weeks.” Both agents had sighed. ”And believe me, we are going to spend quality time together.” Trainer Macklin's little smile had made both men grimace.  
As had made the date marked in the calendars of both agents; the date now past, for Ray's second operation six months after the first. For a few days he – no, they - had faced again all the prospects of things going wrong. But Ray had walked in the hospital door; and he had also, in due time, walked out that door. And at that door had been waiting for him a little lady, not wearing a uniform any longer, who had given him a tight squeeze, and handed him a small bottle of champagne. Champange, which they actually had shared in Bodie's apartment, the three of them, while the fourth member of the company had performed for them, dashing around on his lanky legs, throwing and grabbing his squeaky toy before stretching himself around Ray's neck and purring like a motor.  
   
A gust of wind brushed the still curly, yet now more neatly trimmed hair of the man when he brought his eyes back to the present day and saw again the landscape around him. The river down below, the bushes, the hills, the slope where it still was easy to see the marks of the landslide. He remembered the cold, and the fear, and for a moment he allowed himself to be choked by them, let them flush through him, before forcing them out from his system.  
That was the one reason why he had wanted to return; to leave it all behind.  
He only needed to turn his head a little, to see his partner stand by his side, looking down, musing, before lifting his gaze. Then the two looked at each other, and started to walk, without saying a word, following the road, looking down, step by step, there but above it all, until they reached the point where the road curved away from the river.  
There they stopped, trying to decide which way to follow, and in a car waited patiently the young Scot who had been following them, intrigued, trying to guess what was going on in the minds of the two quiet men when they followed the route of the river, as he too had done many times, in awe of the stamina and determination that had been needed from both agents, to survive their ordeal.  
Ray in his mountain jacket was the first to open his mouth.  
”To hell with it. Let's go in and help Duncan's Gramp with the dinner. Besides it's dark soon. Mulled wine and rockets, that's what we need for the New Year, eh mate? New Year, new tricks...”  
Bodie gave his mate his flashy grin, brighter than Ray had seen it in months, before turning towards the car and throwing himself to the back seat. ”Take the short road, eh, Jeeves?”  
The sudden happiness and joy of life, radiating from these two men, felt overwhelming, and the young PC could only grin. ”Aye aye, sir!”  
Those two were in a league of their own.


End file.
